


Through The Eyes

by EclipseBorn



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 61,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseBorn/pseuds/EclipseBorn
Summary: Normal girl. Normal boy. One a Time Lord, the other an ex-psychology student. Misadventures in time and space. Love isn't the aim of the game. This is the tale of a universe that was created by an unravelled paradox, a story that you'll have to experience...Through The Eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer; I do not own any of the Doctor Who properties.  
> Though I do own a fez, a bowtie, and a sonic screwdriver.

**Through the Eyes**

Time fractures. It splits open, just a tiny crack in the fabric of reality, and then it just doesn’t stop; growing wider and wider, swallowing up worlds and people and memories. It takes, takes, takes until there’s nothing left. Just a tiny planet, in the eye of the storm, kept warm by the very thing that caused everything to explode in the first place.

Earth, an insignificant place in the grand scheme of things, now the only reminder of an entire universe. The humans of Earth – vicious, cruel things that they usually were - forgot about the stars that once existed, of the alien invasions that had taken thousands. History never happened and, by pure chance, if something remained from the old world, it was distorted; the penguins of the Nile, for example.

Or the Pandorica.

The Pandorica; a magic box that was secretly the perfect prison, made for a man whom everyone feared deep down. Inside was a woman, not the man, and this woman was just that; a woman. Not a girl, not a child, she was Amy Pond and she was amazing. Amy would go on to marry the man she loved, have a child that she’d never raise, and would eventually live out her life stuck in the past.

But this story isn’t about Amy Pond; her story is over.

Or, well, her story never _happened_ ; the cracks fed and fed, paradoxes feeding them from the fall of the Eleventh. The cracks never existed but they did, because the Doctor had to close them, but the reason why they were formed in the first place stopped existing, so they did too. Except they didn’t.

You see, dear reader, the cracks were formed when the Silence blew up the Doctor’s TARDIS in an effort to stop him reaching Trenzalore, the place where he was fated to die. You know this, I know this, but you don’t yet understand, I think.

The Doctor was fated to die because there was a crack – yes, one of those cracks – that led to an alternate universe where the Time Lords lay in waiting, ready to return to our universe. They required an answer to an ancient question; Doctor who? If the Doctor said his name, they’d return.

Thus, silence had to fall.

So a rogue chapter of the Papal Mainframe travelled back, and they destroyed the Doctor’s TARDIS and they stole a young Melody Pond from her parents and raised her to kill the Doctor. It all failed, as anyone with a brain would’ve known, but they were desperate. Another Time War would rip apart reality.

But the Time Lords were only saved because of a young girl named Clara Oswald; it was she who convinced the Doctor to rewrite his own personal history and save them. He viewed this as a victory – others viewed it as a staggering loss of morals for the man who once claimed that his people were nothing more than monsters.

But, and here’s the kicker, the Doctor only met Clara because of his grave at Trenzalore. It was there that she threw herself into his timestream, creating echoes of herself right along his timeline; echoes that the Doctor would meet in his past, echoes that would inspire the Doctor to find the real Clara.

All of this, quite literally all of it, relied on the Doctor’s death at Trenzalore.

And, at the end of his life, he regenerated.

Regeneration means no grave at Trenzalore; no grave means no timestream, so no Clara. No Clara equals no Time Lords, so there isn’t a reason for the Doctor to be at Trenzalore; there isn’t a question to be asked, so there isn’t a need for silence to fall. So… no reason for the Kovarian Chapter to travel back in time, no reason for Melody Pond to be kidnapped. And the TARDIS doesn’t explode, either.

And with no TARDIS explosion… no cracks in time.

The future wiped out the past, made it so everything he did never even happened. His entire life, just like that, wiped out. But we can’t blame the Doctor; it wasn’t his fault.

None of that timeline was ever supposed to happen, it was twisted by a malevolent force who wanted – well, I can’t say that yet, but what it wanted wasn’t good. It almost succeeded in destroying the universe… so it definitely wasn’t good.  
But the universe was left with a conundrum; the new Doctor couldn’t exist, because the reason for his regeneration never happened. And the old Doctor couldn’t continue on as, technically speaking, his life stopped five minutes after he regenerated.

 _See?_ Conundrum. A big one, too.

That’s where I come in.

The universe felt bad for this old Doctor, with no malevolent force tied to him, and they had to do something with him because a Doctor left alone always ended up with a genocide or two happening.

So, on a fateful night in late 2016, they sent him to me. And together, we were _fantastic_.


	2. Chapter One:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meet cute that involves melting ice cream and confused aliens.

**23/11/16**

I was walking back from the shops when it happened, a thrilling experience that everyone loves deep down (not). My earphones were in and I was listening to what my younger brother would describe as 'pop trash', which is what I called it too when other people were around. The shopping bags I carried weren't that heavy, and they were filled mostly with essentials.

And two pints of ice cream; but I was a woman, and vast amounts of ice cream is a basic human right for me.

I remember the night to be chilly – it was November and I lived in London, this isn't a surprise, people – and I had boots that clicked on the pavement – sidewalk to you Americans – only I couldn't hear the _click_ , because as previously mentioned I was listening to music.

It was a perfectly normal, boring night. A rather average one, if I'm being honest to myself.

Then a blue box came out of a hole in the sky and crashed into the park across the street. It was small, rectangular in shape, and it landed on its side with smoke trailing off into the artificially lit sky (in the middle of London, you could never see the stars).

I stopped there, I think, and weighed my options. To continue walking was a laughably easy 'no', but to walk over and investigate was equally as off-putting. I lived in London, okay? Alien invasions were the norm here.

But, I had to admit, none of them ever started with the arrival of a blue box.

The doors swung open and my decision was made for me as a grappling hook came sailing out and wrapped itself – literally, it curved through the air in a way that was physically impossible – around the trunk of a large oak tree. I blinked several times, to make sure I wasn't hallucinating, but was forced to face the reality of what was happening.

Walking over took a lot of bravery, which I'm proud of myself for, even if I did mutter under my breath the entire way.

"I'm gonna get killed by a maniac in a blue box," I said. "What sort of a maniac chooses a blue box as a mode of transport? What's scary about the colour _blue_?"

And then a set of hands grabbed at the side of the box and a man began climbing out, all gangly limbs and floppy hair. He was soaking wet, floppy hair plastered to his forehead, and he stared at me as though he hadn't been expecting to see me stood there.

The man, in the blue box that had arrived from the middle of _nowhere_ , was surprised to see me.

"Hello," I waved to him awkwardly.

"Hello," he said, not waving back. "Where am I?"

I glanced around, wondering if I should just say 'Earth' and leave it at that. "Shoreditch, North London."

The man climbed fully out of the box, resting on the side. He looked around and greatly resembled a Meerkat scoping out its territory. "Totters Lane?"

"A street off, actually," the man had a surprisingly good grasp of geography. "Are you an alien?"

"Usually it takes them longer to ask," he said, looking at me properly for the first time. "Why'd you think that?"

"You appeared out of a gap in the sky in a blue box," I said. "What part of that screams 'human'?"

He laughed. "You're good."

"And you never answered my question."

The man clicked his heels together, hands in his lap. The clothes he wore were strange; normally, I'd say it was just a suit… if it wasn't ripped to shreds and pulled tight across his body like it was three sizes too small for him. "I am an alien, yes. I think."

I frowned at that. "How can you _think_ you're an alien?"

"It's not my fault," he defended. "Everything's fuzzy right now, post-regeneration haze. You're lucky I didn't wish you ' _Merry Christmas_ ' and then collapse in your arms. It's what happened last time."

"I'm atheist," I began, the frown not leaving my face. "And you're weird."

He hopped off the box, landing on his knees. There was a strange twitch that ran throughout his body before whatever it was got expelled through his mouth; a great big exhale of golden dust. It flew up into the sky, dispersing gradually until I couldn't make out the faintest glint. "Don't worry," he said. "Perfectly normal."

"Normal for an alien, maybe." I dropped my shopping to the ground, helping the man stand. "Who are you?"

"The Doctor," he wobbled for a moment, bopping my nose. "I think."

"Doctor w-" Suddenly the finger he'd used to bop my nose was on my lips, stopping me from speaking.

"I don't like that anymore," he explained. I didn't really know what was wrong with the man; even _he_ looked confused at his actions. "Don't ask that."

I blinked at him, the tender skin of my lips tingling when he moved his finger away. "How can you be called the Doctor? That isn't a name… it's a _title_."

"I just am." he said. "Just accept it and move in. Make your life easier. That's a lot of ice cream."

We both glanced down at the abandoned shopping bags at my feet. An awkward silence lingered. "Um. I… really like ice cream?"

"I didn't," the Doctor – still a stupid name – mused. "Don't know if I do now. It'll be a test, yeah?"

And then, without even _asking_ me, he swooped down and grabbed one of the tubs. Ripping it open with what I can only describe as inhumane strength (seriously he ripped off the plastic wrapper and the lid without even pausing), the Doctor then scooped up a massive handful and shoved it in his mouth.

I stared at him with equal parts of disgust and awe. "You're paying for that," I said, very quietly.

"It's good," he rolled the ice cream around his mouth, tongue peeking out to lick at the corner of his lips. "Better than I remember. Bit warm though."

"You're completely mad," I realised. "You're a mad, wet alien."

The Doctor blinked at me, ice cream forgotten. He glanced down at himself, as if realising his state of undress. "Oh, that isn't me. That was the swimming pool."

I looked at him, and noted with bone-deep certainty that he wasn't lying. "The blue box is a swimming pool?"

"The blue box _has_ a swimming pool," he corrected, eating more. "And a library. That's where I was – the gravity turned off, damage to the stabilisers, boring stuff. The swimming pool fell down after I did, made for a soft landing."

"Was that supposed to be an explanation?" I asked, taking some of the ice cream for myself. I needed the comfort food sooner than expected. "Because you just made everything more complicated."

"Humans are always so _slow_ ," the Doctor sighed. "The box is in fact an inter-dimensional time machine that can go anywhere and anywhen in all of creation, and inside it has a swimming pool and a library. It's very simple and easy to understand."

 _I hate this man_ , I thought. Outloud, I said; "That's the opposite of simple."

He glared at me- or at least, he tried to glare but then another coughing fit happened and I had to pat him on the back until he breathed out more of the golden stuff.

"You sure that's normal?" I asked, watching it move off into the atmosphere.

"Post-regeneration," the Doctor waved a hand, gasping for breath. "I'm working out the extra regeneration energy from my system. Like breathing in dust only you don't breathe it in and it isn't actually dust."

"Regeneration? That's what happened to you? You regenerated and now you can't remember simple stuff like whether or not you're an alien?"

"I said you were good," he said, admiringly. "But you really are quite quick."

I shrugged. "I live in London, so aliens aren't that unusual nowadays."

The Doctor let out a little laugh. Instead of standing back up, like he had before, he collapsed against the foot of the blue box, resting against it with the ice cream in his lap. "I know all about those."

"You can remember the alien invasions..." I sat next to him, making sure to keep a distance between us. "But not if you were part of them?"

"No, no," he patted me on the knee. "I was there. I'm the reason they didn't win. Titanic heading right towards Buckingham Palace, that was me."

Staring at him, I wondered if I really was hallucinating after all. "It was _not_."

"It was! And the spaceship over London, that was me, too." The Doctor nodded, very seriously, as he ate more of my ice cream.

"Which one?" I asked. "There's been loads."

" _All_ of them," he sighed. "But the first one was just me alone, no back-up 'til Torchwood got involved. Ended up losing a hand in a duel for the planet."

I'd heard enough. Taking the tub back from him, I openly scoffed. "You got that from Star Wars."

"No," the Doctor protested, stealing the ice cream back. "I did, honest. I told you, regeneration. I regenerated the hand back."

"Aliens don't look like humans," I said. "I mean… are you like a tiny little bug in a human costume? Did you crawl into the brain and take some man over, like that episode of Stargate?"

"You watch too much sci-fi," he noted. "And this _is_ my body. My new body."

"This is all mad," I said.

"Yes," he agreed. "It is."

We sat there in silence for god-knows how long, with the Doctor steadily eating all of my ice cream. I stopped complaining about it, knowing that I had more than enough back at home and in the bags, and simply watched him instead. He seemed so human, yet I knew without a doubt that he was far from it.

"The year you supposedly lost your hand," I began, hesitantly. "Everyone stood on the edge of a roof, ready to jump, and then nothing happened. They were all set free. Was that you?"

"Blood control," the Doctor told me. "Cheap bit of voodoo. Easy to break."

"I was fourteen. I woke up, freezing cold, with my little brother and my dad next to me. We'd all walked up there, and our parents couldn't stop us. She was in tears."

Slowly, I turned to him. The Doctor was watching me, green eyes wide with understanding. "You wouldn't have died."

"Maybe not from that," I stood, dusting off my jeans from where the grass stuck to me. "But that duel for the planet… you lost a hand, but you won. What would've happened if you lost?"

"Then the planet would have been lost," the Doctor stood up too, leaving the ice cream behind. "It was nothing. Saving people is what I do for fun, I can remember that much."

"You need somewhere to stay, yeah?" I cast a critical eye over him and then at the blue box. "And I don't think you can go back in there any time soon."

As if sensing that we were looking at it, the blue box's doors swung shut and I heard the lock engage. "She's occupied," the Doctor said. "I did blow her up."

"You can stay with me," I decided, picking up my bags. "I'll set out the sofabed."

"Wait," I didn't let him speak, walking off with purpose. He was forced to follow, even if he was very unsteady on his feet. "Just like that, you're helping?"

"Just like that," I said. "You've helped me loads of times, from the sounds of things, and I never knew. So, this is me helping you."

The Doctor sighed, elbows hitting me as he swung his arms around. "I don't help so I have something to hold over someone. I help because it's the right thing to do. You humans, you're so young! Barely even _out_ there, up in that gorgeous sky, full of worlds and civilisations, and there are some who don't want to let you get that far. History states that the human race evolves to something so much _more_ than what they started off with, lasting until the final days of the universe. That's one history fact I actually like."

I looked at him and felt like those worlds and civilisations didn't compare at all to him. He was young and old at the same time, a magnetic quality to him that compelled me to not leave him behind. The Doctor, I thought, was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen in all twenty-four years of living on Earth.

"Every helper needs to be helped," was what I said.

"Maybe," he acquiesced.

"No 'maybe' about it, Doctor." I nudged at him. "Trust me on this, I'm an art student. Philosophical questions that are completely pointless are my forte."

He laughed, a proper one, which took me off guard. It made him so much more alien; I could imagine him as serious and grim quite easily, because wasn't that what aliens were supposed to look like?

It occurred to me, right then, that I'd seen an alien laugh. I'd shared food with an alien. An _alien_.

Covertly, I pinched myself.

"You aren't dreaming," the Doctor said, with a chuckle that had yet to leave. He seemed to notice every move I made, adjusting himself in response on an almost instinctive level. I wondered if he noticed how he moved, limbs as co-ordinated as a newborn giraffe's. "This is real."

"It's strange," I began, tying myself down to the normal London street I was walking down and the shopping bags swinging by my side. The lit sky, the bitter wind, the smell of rain that never seemed to leave the cobblestones of the road. "This should all feel very surreal. But it doesn't."

The Doctor shrugged. "Either you're ridiculously trusting, or you're ridiculously adaptable to new situations."

I bit my lip – I wasn't sure which one I wanted to be. To be trusting, not ruined by the cynical views of modern society, or to be adaptable, so that I could fit into any situation and make the best of it.

"Or maybe you're a bit of both," he continued on. "You're certainly smart enough for that."

"Thanks," I said, with a bit of a blush. "But I think you're over-estimating me a bit."

He looked at me as we walked, gaze intense, and I pretended not to notice as I focused on the path ahead of us. We were gaining more than a few odd looks from other pedestrians on the street; a Chinese woman walking with a white man wearing a ripped suit.

"Art student?" He repeated, sometime later. My flat was almost in sight and my keys jangled in my grasp, anticipation building. "What kind?"

"Just _art_ , I suppose. Architecture mostly, but I'm a classical painter too." I stood on the steps leading up to the front door, buzzing myself in. The Doctor took one of the bags from me in a gentlemanly move that was genuinely surprising. There were moments where I could forget that he was an alien. These moments passed quickly.

"I've met a few painters in my time," the Doctor said, following me up the stairs. "Time travel offers that benefit of meeting whoever I want in history."

"So, that blue box, you weren't lying when you said ' _anywhere and anywhen_ '? It's a spaceship?" I couldn't hide my scepticism. "It's a _time_ machine?"

"It's called a TARDIS-"

"But the doors say 'police box'," I pointed out. "Why'd you label a time machine that? Is it safe to be saying this stuff out loud?"

"Who's gonna look at a blue box and think 'time machine?" The Doctor asked. We'd reached the second floor now, and he had a faint sheen to his skin. It wasn't sweat, but he didn't look well. "It's called the TARDIS."

" _The_ TARDIS for _the_ Doctor?" I pointed out.

He didn't smile, only pausing to rest on the wall. "What floor do you live on?"

"The fourth," I said. "The lift was broke from before I moved in, and the landlord has deigned not to fix it."

The Doctor pushed himself off the wall, passing me the bag back. He loped off down the corridor, padding on the hardwood flooring softly, and now he moved with a bit more grace to him. The newborn giraffe thing was sticking around though.

"What're you doing?" I queried, following at a sedate pace. I didn't like this; there was only one guy who lived on this floor, and he was a total creep. As in, 'no one wanted to live near him' level creep. "We shouldn't be going- _Doctor_!"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" He asked me. He trailed a hand on the wall as he walked; I didn't know if that was a normal part of how he walked, or if he was trying to keep steady. "Don't you want to know why he's never fixed it?"

"It's because he's a stingy bastard," I said. "Mystery solved, let's go."

"You have a very cynical view of your landlord," the Doctor mentioned, perplexed. "I'm sure he's a nice man, deep down."

He'd found the lift now, a cramped thing packed into the corner of the corridor. I'd always been sort of glad it didn't work; the thing resembled a metal coffin from the outside. I shuddered to think of what it was like on the inside.

The Doctor, who apparently viewed metal coffins as a cool and interesting thing to explore, took out a silver pen from his pocket and began… _waving_ it towards the lift, a whirring sound coming from it as the end glowed blue.

"What's that?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Sonic screwdriver," he answered. "It'll get her fixed up in a jiffy." The Doctor's head cocked to the side, sending me a confused look. "How long is a ' _jiffy_ ', anyway? Longer or shorter than ' _in a mo_ '?"

"Are you okay?" I patted his arm, noticing how even that made him flinch away. I stopped trying to touch him after that.

"Regeneration isn't fun, you know," the Doctor told me. "It hurts – like every part of you is on fire and then you come out of it and it still hurts, like when your arm's numb and the blood starts flowing again. All over."

I ran my tongue across the front of my teeth; my instincts were telling me to phone an ambulance, or UNIT, or, hell, _Torchwood_ , because the Doctor was quite clearly not well. "Doctor?"

"And it's not just the body that changes," he continued. The pitch of the screwdriver had now increased, and the machinery of the lift began to grumble. "It's the mind too; the neural pathways are completely rewritten, personality changed entirely."

"Doctor?"

"The old me said it was like dying; everything about you changes and some new man walks away. Is that what I am? A new man? I feel the same, I feel like I'm the Doctor, but he said I'm not- but was that what he meant?"

I didn't know what to say; this was obvious a trauma for him, mentally and physically, but what was I supposed to do? He was an _alien_ , and I was an artist, not a nurse. But-

"My roommate, she's a medical student," I said, as the lift arrived with a cheerful ' _ding_ '. "I trust her. Can she take a look at you?"

"She can take more than a look, but I'm not sure why she'd want to." The Doctor stepped into the lift, dragging me with him. "I'm not sure about this face yet. Haven't seen it."

"Er," even though I'd already been covertly staring at him since we met, I made a show of glancing at him. "You're- you look good. Young. Very young."

" _How_ young?" He asked, poking at his cheeks. "I don't want to look like a child!"

I kept quiet.

The Doctor continued feeling up his face, feeling the bridge of his nose. "I'm not feeling any wrinkles. Or facial hair – not even any sideburns this time 'round. Hair's a bit long."

"A bit, yeah." I bit my lip, being very entertained as the Doctor started grabbing himself all over his body. "D'you want me to leave you alone so you can touch yourself more?"

"Why would I-?" He gasped, cheeks blushing red. "Oh, you are- shut up! Naughty!"

It was with a tinkling laugh that I left the lift when it arrived on my floor, leaving the crimson Doctor behind. He followed, wrinkling his nose when we reached my green front door.

"I don't like that colour," he said.

"You're gonna have to get used to it," I told him, slipping my key into the lock. "You'll be seeing it in the mirror quite often."

All the Doctor did was frown at me; didn't he even know the colour of his own _eyes_?

I entered the flat with a buzzing mind, shuffling over to the kitchen to drop off my shopping. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I'd set out to the shops… I supposed, for the Doctor, it really _was_ a different lifetime ago.

"Cosy," the Doctor said, looking around. I pretended that he wasn't just using real estate-agent speak for 'this place is tiny'. "Lived in."

"It's a mess," I said, bluntly. "But we don't really have the time to clean up."

The Doctor sat down on the patterned armchair, looking as out-of-place as his TARDIS did in the park. His long, spindly legs stretched out in front of him. The newborn giraffe thing _really_ wasn't going away. "You have a roommate, yes?"

"She's a student, and she works night shifts at the hospital. Otherwise, we'd be very quiet right now so she could get her sleep." I began putting the shopping away, careful to keep an eye on the Doctor at all times. "So, um, I've got some spare pyjamas you could wear, if you'd like?"

"I'll be alright," he decided, fiddling with the lamp on the coffee table.

"But isn't it uncomfortable?" I asked, back to him as I stocked up the fridge. "I mean, the other you; they're _his_ clothes, aren't they? So, aren't you basically wearing a dead man's outfit?"

I expected a reply – ranging from a hearty 'no' to another mad ramble about his previous self – but when I faced him, I knew why there had been silence. The Doctor lay on the chair, arms hugging the lamp to his chest, as his head tilted back and he let out a guttural snore.

Honestly, I wasn't even that surprised. It was kind of expected for him to nod off eventually; I guessed regeneration to be a tiring thing. Still, I set out the sofabed and half-pulled, half-dragged the Doctor until he was lying on it. I'd fallen asleep on the armchair before, and it wasn't a comfortable experience.

It didn't look to be a peaceful sleep the Doctor was having, his face contorted into pain, but there was little I could do. I didn't _know_ alien biology… all I could do was wait until the Doctor woke back up.

If that happened.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor awakens and there's an alien invasion to defeat.

**24/11/16**

I awoke with a crick in my neck and a line of drool escaping from the corner of my mouth, which I covertly wiped away by masking the move as a stretch. I accompanied the fake-stretch with a very real yawn, blinking the sleep from my eyes. I'd ( _stupidly_ ) fallen asleep in the same armchair I'd moved the Doctor from the previous night, having hoped to keep vigil over him through the night.

He was still asleep on the sofabed, I noticed, sleeping peacefully. I'd tried checking his pulse earlier, but couldn't seem to get a good spot for it; his heartbeat was ridiculously fast, and there was an echo. There was no alien helpline to phone, no way of asking for help – just me and the Doctor.

I mooched off to shower and change my clothes, with a quick glance at the clock telling me the time was half eight. I'd slept surprisingly late, though I figured it was due to my energetic evening. A quick glance in my flatmate's room showed that she'd returned from her night shift; Danielle was curled up in bed, fast asleep.

For only a moment, I wondered if she'd seen the Doctor. Had she thought him one of my friends, even though we shared the same social circles? There was no way in _hell_ she knew him to be an alien but, still, I worried.

Back in the living room, the Doctor slept on – stretched out like a starfish. I watched over him for a second, feeling fond, before going to the kitchen and quietly starting breakfast. The Doctor would need food, I was certain, as a way of replenishing his energy after the regeneration. If I'd learned anything since I'd met him, it was that he was a very lively man who looked dead on his feet.

It was only when I had a single egg poised over the frying pan, ready to cook, when I asked myself; _could the Doctor even eat human food_? Sure, he'd eaten the ice cream last night but what if he was allergic to eggs? Or chickens? Or birds in general?

Troubled, I continued to cook and reassured myself that, if he _were_ unable to eat my eggs on toast, then I could at least try to make him something else.

Rousing the Doctor was a task I'd figured to be near impossible, because he looked so very tired, but I patted him on the cheek a few times and two eyes peeked open.

"Yes?" He asked, groggy.

"I made you breakfast," I told him, helping him sit up. "You need to eat."

"I… I do..." The Doctor pushed the bottom of his palms against his eyes, rubbing at them. "Need a cuppa."

"Of what? Tea?" I'd already moved back to the kitchen, pulling out a mug and turning the kettle on.

"Yes." He staggered his way from the sofabed to the kitchen table, where he collapsed into his chair. The Doctor poked at his eggs, frowning deeply. "You made me food?"

"You need to eat," I repeated. "Replenish your energy."

"I don't want this," he said. "This is… _boring_."

The kettle had yet to finish, so I was free to send him an incredulous expression. "Oh, I'm sorry, next time I'll make you something more 'exciting'. Simple things like a ' _thank you_ ' aren't needed, right?"

"Sorry," the Doctor realised his mistake too late, though I was gratified when he left his chair to pat me apologetically on the arm. "I didn't think..." He blinked at me. "Your name? What is it?"

He wasn't very polite, I noticed. Was that a new thing for him, or something that had been present in _all_ versions of the Doctor? "Erin Wilson."

"E _r_ in Wi _l_ son," he rolled my name around in his mouth, stretching out the ' _R_ ' and the ' _L_ '. "Good name."

"Thanks," I said. "My parents gave it to me for my birthday."

The Doctor walked to my fridge, rummaging through the ingredients I'd bought the night before. "This stuff is all very boring and grown-up. Where's the chocolate?"

"I have ice cream," I told him, pouring the steaming hot water into the mug and watching as the teabag floated to the surface. "And Danielle doesn't eat chocolate."

"Who doesn't eat _chocolate_?" He asked, miffed.

"Just move on," I implored, shoving the mug into his hands. I watched, amazed and concerned, as he downed the entire _scalding_ mug in one. "Doctor!"

"Ah, that was good!" The Doctor licked at his lips; they didn't even look charred. "Just what I needed to settle everything down!"

"Doctor!" I protested. "Didn't that _hurt_? It was fresh from the kettle!"

He waved a hand, unconcerned with _my_ concern. "I'm a Time Lord; it takes more than some hot tea to hurt us."

I observed him as he grabbed a box of fish fingers from the freezer and shoved them into the oven. I had no idea what he wanted them for, but there were more pressing things to think about. "Time Lord?"

The Doctor froze.

"Is that what you are, then? Your race are the _Time Lords_?"

" _Were_ ," he quietly corrected. "They're all gone, now. Just me."

I blinked, the shock taking hold of me. I didn't know how to express it, though, so I just stood there as he waited for his fish fingers to cook. When they were almost done, he grabbed a can of custard and poured it into a bowl; I had a sneaking suspicion as to where this was all leading, and I was less-than-impressed by it.

"They're _all_ gone?" I asked, eventually. "How?"

"There was a war," the Doctor said. "We lost. Everyone lost. I was the only survivor."

"But..." I struggled to make sense of it. "How can _one_ war be so big that there's only one man who survives?"

"It was a bad day," the Doctor snapped. "Mistakes were made, I lost everyone I cared for. The end."

I bit my lip to stop myself from going on; obviously the wound was still fresh… but _of course_ it would be. You don't _move on_ from losing your entire people.

"Don't you have anyone?" I later asked, when his food was done and he was getting ready to eat it. I sat opposite him at the table, drinking my own cup of tea. "Friends, family?"

"Family's all gone," he explained. "And my friends… they come and go. I've been on my own for a while now, started talking to myself. I don't make good conversation."

"I beg to differ," I said, offering a grin. The Doctor smiled back, though it was a touch sadder. I guess talking about the loss of his people didn't put him into a good mood. Made sense. "But- no friends? No one to travel with you?"

"I haven't had anyone in a while," the Doctor said this after dipping a fish finger into the custard and eating it. I watched him, feeling sick. "There was a… _thing_ that happened, we were all together, but then they all left. Figured it was time to knock around on my own for a while. Didn't really need anyone to help."

I gulped; even though I'd only known him for a short while, I had an inkling that leaving him alone wouldn't end well. He had a _time machine…_ the things he could do if left alone were impossible to properly consider. "Remember what I said?"

"Helpers need helping?" He parroted back. My grin grew wider; I hadn't thought he'd actually remember. "You're right, we do."

"My mum's a doctor-" I waggled a finger at him. "A _proper_ one, mind you, not just someone who calls themselves a doctor when all they have is an internet degree."

"It isn't an _internet degree_ ," the Doctor said, looking a tad happier now that we'd left the subject of his people behind. "It is actually a title that was granted after two centuries of study!"

"Mhm," I said, sipping my tea. " _Two_ centuries?"

"I… failed the first time, but my point still stands!" He grumbled as he ate. "I'm the Doctor because I earned that title, thank you very much."

I blinked, only now realising that it wasn't a joke. "Wait, you actually spent two hundred years studying for a degree? How old are you?"

"Does it matter?" The Doctor asked, after a great deal of hesitation.

" _Yes_ ," I insisted. "People only say things _don't_ matter when they _do_."

He huffed a sigh, munching on his fish fingers for a while. "I _may_ be… nine hundred and six."

"Holy shit," I said, faintly. "You're almost a thousand years old?"

The Doctor nodded. "In all honesty, I'm not that old for my species. Only for a short-lived species like your own is it something to talk about."

"You really don't look nine centuries old," I admitted. "You look _my_ age."

"What? No." He snorted, but that didn't quite hide his look of panic. "I can't look that young, I'm a grown man."

"And you look like a grown man," I assured him. "Just a very young one. Definitely in your twenties."

The Doctor looked genuinely heartbroken. "I haven't looked that young in centuries! How are people going to take me seriously if I can't even _shave_!"

I coughed my amusement into my closed fist, making sure to _never_ mention his lack of eyebrows. It'd probably break the man. "I'm sure you can shave," I said. "You're not _that_ young."

"It might not be a bad thing," the Doctor considered. "I haven't been this young in a long time… it's almost refreshing."

"This time yesterday, I was a normal, boring woman who only cared about her brother and her college work." I sighed, taking a deeper sip of my tea. "Now I hear a sentence like _that_ , and it makes perfect sense."

"One of the benefits of being my friend," he said. "And there's certainly nothing _boring_ about you, Erin."

I smiled at the compliment, certain that he was just flattering me, when the radio turned on. By _itself_. The Doctor and I looked at each other and then at the radio, just in time for it to start broadcasting;

" **PRISONER ZERO WILL VACATE THE HUMAN RESIDENCE OR THE HUMAN RESIDENCE WILL BE INCINERATED."**

"That isn't meant to be happening," the Doctor noted, just as the TV turned on in the living room, also sending out the same message. I stood up to investigate, leaving the Doctor behind as I entered the living room.

With a gasp, I saw that the TV was showing a _giant blue_ _eye_ as the message repeated over and over. "Doctor!"

At my yell, he followed – stood at my side, he let out a happy whoop when he saw the eye. "Now, that's _definitely_ alien!"

"What's it talking about, Doctor? Who's 'Prisoner Zero'? _Which_ human residence?"

"At a guess, right now?" The Doctor walked over to the window and opened it; immediately, we could hear a chorus of the same message being played out all over the city. "The world."

I gulped. Sure, _hearing_ about how the Doctor had repelled alien invasions was one thing… _being there_ was another. "What're you gonna do?"

"First off, find out who Prisoner Zero is." He turned on his heel, grabbing me by my hand, and marched out of the flat. I was forced to follow, barely being able to grab the keys off the hook in time. My phone was in my pocket, which I was less concerned about, but the Doctor didn't say a word as we rushed down the stairs and out onto the cold street outside. He was in such a hurry we didn't even wait for the lift, even after he spent ages trying to fix it last night.

"Phone," he requested, gesturing with an open palm.

"Manners," I said, even though I handed it over.

" _Thank_ you," the Doctor said. "Do you have anyone you should be with right now?"

"Why would I-" I tugged on his arm, uncaring if it caused him to mess up when dialling a number on my phone. " _Doctor_."

"If they really are gonna blow up the entire planet, you should get your loved ones. Be with them." The Doctor stared at me, imploring me with his eyes. " _Go_. I'll understand."

For a moment, I was tempted; my family were probably in their house, only a few streets away, having Saturday morning breakfast together. Cooper would be messaging his friends, my father would read his newspaper, and my mother would make them both actually _talk_ to her. Cooper would need me there, if they were to start arguing...

But then I thought of the Doctor. He didn't have _anyone_ – the rituals of my family were ghosts to him. He was all alone, the last of his kind, a single speck of dust clinging onto life.

"I'm staying," I said, determinedly. "You need my help."

The Doctor continued staring at me for an extra second – I couldn't possibly imagine what he saw in me – before he started grinning. Obviously, I'd picked the correct answer.

"Quickest way to the Tower of London?" He asked, and if I weren't so used to him already that would've made me wonder what the hell he meant.

"Around fifteen minutes by car," I told him, recalling the trips my family used to take there.

"Do we have a car?"

"No," I said. "I'm a student; d'you think I could afford one?"

"How long is it if we walk?" The Doctor started walking down the road; I was forced to jog to keep up.

"It's almost two miles away, what do you think?" He looked at me, blankly. "An hour-ish?"

He sighed, waving his arms around. "This is _London_ , Erin, use your head! The Underground!"

"Half an hour, I think, plus we'd have to walk for ages."

The Doctor stopped in the street, holding my phone to his ear. "Do we have a bike?"

I eyed one of the bike racks that were placed around the city; you could hire a bike and return it, they were for tourists and the like. "No, but I know where we can get one."

He followed my gaze, grinning. "Here," he threw me his sonic screwdriver – I barely caught it in time. "Setting three, it should unlock it."

"Isn't that basically theft?" I asked, walking backwards so I could still face him.

" _Borrowing_ ," the Doctor corrected. "We'll be giving them back."

I ran over to the bike rack and tried to use the sonic; 'setting three' was a puzzle to me, as pressing it three times didn't work and neither did holding down the button for three seconds.

"Point and think!" The Doctor yelled over, seeing my difficulty. "That's how it works- oh, _hello_ , yes I do know this is a secure line but they don't really matter to aliens-"

I couldn't hide my laughter at what he was doing – everything with him was utter chaos, yet I loved it whole-heartedly. There was only one bike left at the stand, painted a vibrant green colour and nicking it was easier than expected. I rode it back over to the Doctor, realising a tad too late that we'd have to share when travelling across London.

I could think of worse things.

"Yes, yes, it's me, new face, new voice- _Stewart_ , you say? Good name. I have all the necessary proof that I'm the Doctor, yes. For one, a blue box. For two, two hearts." He grinned at me, moving the phone away from his ear. "D'you see what I did there?"

"You have two hearts?" I asked, instead of responding to the, frankly, _terrible_ pun.

"Oh," he looked momentarily disappointed. "I forgot you didn't know that. Two hearts, standard for Time Lords, keep up."

He was impossible sometimes. "So, what are we gonna do?"

The Doctor mumbled something down the phone and then hung up, throwing it back to me. "UNIT have a secret base beneath the Tower of London, that's where Kate Stewart is investigating 'Prisoner Zero'. It's also where we're going."

He hopped onto the bike, testing the balance out. I only climbed on once I was confident that we wouldn't immediately fall off. The Doctor was the one who peddled and I simply clung on for dear life; he wasn't the most… _stable_ of riders.

"No smart comments about my bike riding abilities," he requested. "This body's balance is _new_."

I wasn't going to say anything anyway, so I just hid my face in the blue fabric of his shirt to protect it from the wind. After taking a deep breath in, I complained aloud; "You smell like wet dog."

"I _did_ fall into a swimming pool," the Doctor said. "And there hasn't really been the time for a shopping spree."

The journey passed quicker than it should have; the Doctor took shortcuts that I didn't even know existed, and was generally so… _dangerous_ on the roads that I was immensely glad we hadn't taken a car after all. He didn't stick to the roads – cutting across the pavements and down civilian routes, even taking us down staircases.

"Doctor!" I screeched. "We aren't even wearing helmets!"

"Well then just hold on!"

There wasn't really any other option for me; I either held onto him or I'd fall to the floor. I noticed, with no small amount of worry, that the alien message continued no matter where we went. It was impossible to ignore, blaring out at top volume on every street and every corner.

" **PRISONER ZERO WILL VACATE THE HUMAN RESIDENCE OR THE HUMAN RESIDENCE WILL BE INCINERATED."**

We pulled up outside the Tower with a gust of speed, making the people gathered there stagger backwards. The Doctor let out a whistle, running a hand through his hair. "Seven minutes. Not bad."

"How can you tell how long it took?" I asked, following him as he hopped off the bike and made his way to where several guards were stood near an alcove.

"Time Lord," he said. "It's in the name." When we reached the guards they eyed us with suspicion and hostility, which couldn't be blamed. The Doctor simply flipped open a wallet at them; whatever was in it made their eyes bug. "Here to see Kate Stewart; she's expecting us."

We were led inside, down stone corridors that looked ridiculously old. I was scared to touch anything, out of a fear of breaking it.

"UNIT have a secret base beneath the Tower of London?" I whispered to the Doctor. "It's a bit James Bond."

"They have secret bases _everywhere_ , Erin," the Doctor said. "This was just the most convenient one."

I glanced down at his hands; he still held the brown wallet from before, fiddling around with it. I snatched it when he was distracted, trying to see what had let us inside.

"Oi!" He tried to grab it back, but I danced around his reaching hands.

I just couldn't understand it; _this_ was what let us inside? A love poem? The Doctor carried love poems around in his pocket? Reading the words, I had to admit they were very beautiful. But it just didn't make any _sense_ ;

_The sun and the sky are natural beauties, cast up there by science,_

_I can tell you how they were made,_

_I can tell you how they'll fade,_

_But the one mystery to me is,_

_The beauty that is your face._

The Doctor sighed when he saw that I'd read it. "I can explain," he offered, awkwardly.

"It's a bit silly? I mean, pretty. Very nice… but 'science' doesn't rhyme with anything." I hid my laughter into a closed fist.

"It's physic paper," the Doctor said. When I was blinking at his explanation, he snatched the wallet back. "See, it just told me you were single and consider yourself to be 'mildly attractive'."

I gasped with offence. " _Mildly_?"

"I know, I don't agree with it either." The Doctor pocketed the wallet, then linked our arms. "Don't worry, we can't always control what the paper shows. It takes a lot of practice to use; you'll get better at it."

We were led into a main room, tall and filled with monitors and screens showing the giant eyeball from before. The same warning blared out from the speakers, sending chills up my spine, but I had something else to consider; the Doctor talked about my 'practice' like I'd have the _time_ with his physic paper.

As if I'd be staying with him. As if he _wanted_ me to stay with him.

The guards in the room – dressed in black combat gear, complete with matching red _berets_ – all pointed their guns at us. In an understandable reaction to this, I shrieked and hid behind the Doctor.

"Calm down," he said. "They won't actually _shoot_."

"Easy for you to say," I replied. " _You_ can come back to life."

"I'm sorry about this," a woman said, pushing her way through the literal men in black. She wasn't dressed like them; a lab coat with comfortable shoes wasn't the most terrifying thing I'd seen all day. "It was just a precaution, you see."

"You must be Kate Stewart," the Doctor smiled at her. "I recognise your voice from over the phone."

"Yes," the woman ducked her head – she seemed to avoid looking directly at the Doctor. "And, hopefully, you're the Doctor."

She moved forwards and held up a scanner, pointing it towards the Doctor's chest. My first instinct was to push him out of the way and perhaps the Doctor realised this, because he moved me so I was hugging his side.

We were protecting each other, in a way.

"Two hearts," Kate said, with a beaming smile. "It's him; it's the Doctor."

As thought it were a command, the guards lowered their guns and returned to a neutral resting position. I let out a breath of relief.

"I'm guessing this is your companion," Kate nodded to me – this time her smile was a lot more polite.

"This is Erin," the Doctor introduced me. "Lovely Erin, smart Erin. She's been looking after me after I regenerated."

"I didn't really have a choice," I mumbled. I didn't really feel comfortable with all the _guns_ around me. "But he's sort of like a newborn fawn finding its legs for the first time."

Kate laughed, and I noticed that a few of the guards found it hard to keep a straight face. "Yes, I can see the resemblance. You're newly regenerated? What happened?"

"It's 2016, yes?" The Doctor walked forwards, pulling me with him. "You remember six years ago, the giant red planet fell out of the sky? I ended up stopping it and absorbed a helluva lot of radiation. A Time Lord can survive a lot, but not that."

Now… now _that_ was weird to consider. Of course, I remembered that event – the whole world was horrified to wake up on Christmas Day to find _another_ planet in the sky, so soon after the Dalek invasion – but that was six years ago. Six whole years, where children had been born and people moved on, and it's been only a few days for the Doctor.

Was that what it was like for him? Years passing in a blink of his eye?

It sounded more appealing than it should have.

"But none of that matters!" The Doctor waved a hand, unconcerned. "Prisoner Zero! The Atraxi! They're the real problem. We've got twenty minutes – well, _fifteen_ minutes, now - 'til the end of the world. My death isn't important."

"Death is _always_ important," I said, very quietly.

The Doctor squeezed my hand in thanks.

"We've no idea what Prisoner Zero is but our scans have showed a spaceship in orbit – several of them, in fact." Kate led us over to the largest wall of screens; the 'spaceships' they showed were little red dots, high above the bigger dot that was obviously Earth. "They've sent no messages, no forms of communication. Nothing. They just say that Prisoner Zero _has_ to leave."

"Before they cook the planet," the Doctor added on. "That's why I hate the Atraxi – they're dunderheads. Never think… then again, they _are_ just giant eyeballs in space. No room for thinking."

"This doesn't matter," I said. "They're going to burn the planet. We have to find Prisoner Zero."

"Easier said than done, but yes, lovely Erin is right." The Doctor turned to Kate. "Now, Prisoner Zero must have only recently escaped, so look for any unnatural events in this area."

"Why _this_ area?" I asked.

"Because that's where the signal started," the Doctor said. "Bet you anything there'll be a crashed meteor on the outskirts of the city that landed… oh, a month ago?"

"Why a month?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Lucky guess. That's how long it'd take the Atraxi to get here from their prison."

"He – he's right," said one of the techs at the computer. "A meteor of unknown origin, landed in a park near… Croydon."

"Close enough," he defended. "Prisoner Zero escaped in _that_. It took the Atraxi this long to catch up because Prisoner Zero probably did some damage before fleeing."

"The Atraxi are the giant eyeballs?" Kate avoided looking at the screen as she spoke. I couldn't blame her; the giant blue eyeball was downright _unnerving_.

"They're a side-arm of the Shadow Proclamation, help run a prison five star systems over. It isn't a very good prison, I'll admit."

"The meteor was taken in by us," the tech continued. "But there was nothing inside. It was empty and judged to be rubbish."

"That doesn't help," said Kate. "Look for unusual disturbances _around_ the crash site; Zero must've escaped before we got there.

The Doctor made a noise of approval. "Clever. Tell me, when did science start leading UNIT?"

"Since I dragged them along kicking and screaming..." Kate paused as she recalled a memory. "Though, that makes it sound more fun than it _actually_ was."

I laughed louder than I should have, causing everyone to look at me. Awkwardly, I coughed under their stares and tried to draw their attention elsewhere. "Um, wouldn't it be better if we knew what Prisoner Zero _is_? Like, can't we access the Atraxi records?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Erin," the Doctor scoffed. "That would require- oh. I can do that."

He rushed over to the computer and physically shoved the tech there out of the way, climbing into the seat and using his sonic to buzz at it repeatedly. The screen flickered and faded, random letters and numbers jumping up, until it all went blue and… _alien_ -y. I couldn't understand a single word of it, but the Doctor apparently could because he let out a whoop of victory.

"Erin, you're a genius!" His eyes scanned across the screen, using his sonic to access different pages.

"How are you even _doing_ that?" Kate asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Oh, the Atraxi is broadcasting a signal to the entire planet. I piggybacked onto the signal and followed it up to the source… they always did have rubbish firewalls." The Doctor slapped the desk, in a way that surely would've hurt had he been human. "There! Prisoner Zero, arrested for… _impersonating_ the Papal Mainframe? Oh, you bad boy. He's a multi-form."

I shoved at his arm, causing him to look up at me in confusion. "And what's that when it's at home?"

"Shape-shifter," answered Kate, much to our mutual surprise. "UNIT's dealt with them before."

"There's a story I'd like to hear," the Doctor said with a grin. "But if he _is_ a multi-form, we have a way of finding him."

"We do?" I didn't see how – if Prisoner Zero could change forms, wouldn't that make it _harder_ for him to be found? "How?"

"What's the nearest hospital to the crash site?" The Doctor pushed back on his wheeled chair, moving across to the nearest tech. We followed, steps echoing on the stone floor. "With a coma ward?"

"Saint Anne's Hospital," the tech answered. "It's half a mile away. It has a coma ward with sixteen patients."

Immediately, I thought of Danielle; that was where she _worked_.

The Doctor nodded at the words; his mind was working far faster than any of our own. "Multi-forms need a strong psychic link to whomever they're mimicking… look for any of the coma patients outside of where they are."

"Oh!" The idea hit me moments after it hit the Doctor, and I jumped up and down in excitement. "You think that Prisoner Zero is using the coma patients to hide… so if we see a coma patient up and around the city, we _know_ it's Zero!"

"You really are clever," the Doctor said, looking at me with an affectionate gaze.

"As good as this all is," Kate said, ruining our moment. "How does this help us find Prisoner Zero _and_ give him over to the Atraxi?"

"Well, that's simple." He scratched at the side of his head. "I mean, it _will_ be simple. Let's just find him first, eh?"

Silence overtook us as the only noise in the room was the techs' fingers tapping away at their keyboards; I felt like I was pumped up with adrenaline, but there was nowhere for it to go. Alien invasions were always so much more _cooler_ on TV… there hadn't even been an explosion yet.

Then the light turned off. Not the artificial ones, not the computers, just _the_ light – the sunlight. It was filtered, strange and red, and when we slowly walked over to the window we could see why; the sun was covered by a mysterious shield, blocking all the light it gave off.

"What is that?" Kate questioned, voice contained to a whisper.

"They've locked off the upper atmosphere," the Doctor said, equally as quiet. "They're preparing to cook the planet."

"No," I tugged on his arm, pulling him so we faced each other. "Earlier, you said fifteen minutes. Why?"

He took ahold of my shoulders and held me there, firm. "This planet; a fair size, two poles, molten core. That needs a 40% fission blast to cook and since the Atraxi only have… _average_ size ships, that needs twenty minutes to power up. We spent six minutes travelling here after the message started, so now we have fifteen-ish minutes. Less, now. Have you found Zero yet?"

The tech jumped at being addressed again. "Uh, yes sir!"

"Don't call me that," the Doctor demanded. " _Never_ call me that."

"Um, okay- we've found what we _think_ to be Prisoner Zero outside Buckingham Palace."

I rushed over to the screen, leaning down to view the CCTV footage. One one side of the screen, I could see a very ill woman lying in a coma on a hospital ward; on the other side, I could see her stood in the middle of the square, staring up at the sky. Both were live feeds and even though I was seeing the impossible, I didn't feel amazed or terrified.

"Can you find other times when Zero has done this?" I asked, looking at the tech.

"Yes, ma'am." The tech clicked away at his keyboard. "Why?"

I took a glance at the Doctor as I gave my answer; "Well, if we find all of Zero's secret identities and beam them up to the Atraxi using that back door the Doctor opened, then they can find him."

"She really is good," said Kate.

"I _know_ ," the Doctor agreed, making me blush.

"Doctor!" The tech suddenly yelled. "Reports indicate a massive gathering of heat in the Atraxi ships."

"They're preparing to fire," the Doctor cursed, rushing over. "They've still got ten minutes, what are they _doing_?"

"Never mind that, what are we going to do?" Kate pulled out her phone, messaging away on it. "We've got forces rushing to apprehend Prisoner Zero, but they're twenty minutes out and counting."

"We don't have twenty minutes!" The Doctor snapped.

The situation was just getting worse by the second, and for a moment I was sure that all hope was lost. Then I realised that, in all the chaos, the Doctor had re-taken my hand. I hadn't even noticed, I hadn't reached for him at all, yet he'd wanted the contact anyway.

"We don't have twenty minutes, but we don't need that long," I said, decisively. "I saw cars parked outside; they're UNIT's, yeah?"

"They're our cars, yes, but I fail to see how-"

I cut over Kate smoothly. "The Doctor and I will take a car and confront Prisoner Zero, while you lot get those photos of Zero to the Atraxi."

"That's a good plan," said the Doctor. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"And what if Zero runs away when you confront him?" Kate placed her hands on her hips, reminding me so strongly of my mother for a moment I had to blink. "He won't take defeat easily."

"He'll go back to the hospital," the Doctor muttered. He seemed distracted, caught up within his own mind; I remembered instantly that he was still becoming used to himself. Like a newborn baby playing with its toes and fingers. And the Doctor, this newborn Time Lord, had to deal with an alien army threatening to destroy the entire planet because of a single prisoner. "That's where his hosts are, the only things protecting him from being recaptured. He'll want to protect them."

"They aren't _things_ ," Kate told him. "But yes, you're right."

She strode off, making calls on her phone. I had no doubt that the hospital was going to be cordoned off by UNIT within the next ten minutes.

The Doctor and I ran from the room, from the Tower itself, and I let out a whooping laugh as we did so. "This is _definitely_ like James Bond!"

"I'm nothing like James Bond!" The Doctor called back.

We hit the street with force, the soles of my feet aching when we jumped off the top step and hit the brick floor. There was a black SUV that looked like it came straight out of a cliché cop show, which the Doctor unlocked with a buzz of the sonic. The leather seats inside were ridiculously comfortable, which annoyed me, and there was even a drinks holder between the two front seats.

I was insanely jealous of it; the only transport I owned was my bike, and that was in the shop for repairs. The Doctor, surprisingly, knew how to drive the car and we were off before I'd even buckled up my seatbelt.

"There's sirens in the drawer there," the Doctor informed me, eyes fixed on the road. "Get them on the roof and turn them on."

Instantly, I followed his orders; I'd always seen things like this in the TV shows, but I'd always thought it was utter rubbish. Now, as I hung out the side of the SUV trying to get the sirens to turn on, I realised that I'd never given them enough credit. It was a lot more terrifying in person.

The cars in the road moved out of the way when they saw us coming – perhaps sensing that we were connected to the fact that the sun had literally turned _off_ – and we made good time to the Palace.

"Doctor," I began, when we started to approach where Zero was. "The hospital where Zero was- that's where Danielle works."

"Who?" Asked the Doctor.

"My roommate," I gushed. "That's where she works. That's the _ward_ where she works. If it takes months to build up a psychic link, can he turn into her too?"

He threw the phone back to me. "Keep her awake, alright? He can only take on their form if they're asleep, that's why coma patients are like a buffet to him."

We pulled up to the curb and both hopped out, my fingers hitting the speed-dial before my feet touched the ground. I could see where Zero was, impersonating a woman with a young son, and the Doctor noticed too. He strode forwards with confidence, and I followed behind.

" _Wuzz goin' on?"_ Danielle grumbled down the phone. _"Erin, I've only had three hours of sleep."_

"Look outside, for god's sake! The world's about to end!" I gulped as the Doctor looked back at me, having heard the words.

"It isn't going to end, Erin," he said, taking a step closer to me as he held my cheek. "I promise you. I'll keep you safe – you have my word on that, if nothing else."

I grabbed at his arm until I reached his hand, holding it tightly. "I know," I whispered. "I trust you."

The Doctor smiled with gratitude, but also with sadness. "Erin… I need to ask you something."

"Er," with a glance around the packed square, and the frantic mutterings of Danielle ringing down my ear, I really had to question his logic. "Is now really the time?"

"Come with me." The Doctor held my face, leaning in close. "In the TARDIS, after this is done. Let me show you the universe."

The words blind-sided me, leaving me stood there gaping. "Doctor, I-"

" _Erin, where the hell are you?!"_ Danielle demanded down the phone. _"The flat is empty and the world is ending!"_

"It isn't," I assured her, filled with a surreal calmness. The Doctor walked off, to confront Zero no doubt, yet I knew my place wasn't there. Not yet. "Listen, I need you to stay awake."

" _I think I'm gonna have some difficulty right now,"_ she said, scathingly. _"Are you with your family? God, they're gonna be panicking."_

"No, no, I'm with a… I'm with a friend. He needs my help with something," I watched, terrified, as Zero became aware of the Doctor's presence. The alien's eyes flickered over to mine, and the terror was replaced by fear.

" _Is that really important right now?"_ Danielle asked. _"Is it the same guy who was passed out on our couch? Who is he?"_

It was a question that couldn't be answered in a single phone call, with the world's end only minutes away. "He's a good man," I said. "The best. And right now he needs me, and I need you to do something – phone my family for me."

" _Erin, why can't you-"_

"Because, I'm gonna be busy for a while." I'd made my decision. "A long while - I don't know if I'll _be_ back."

Danielle breathed quietly for a moment. _"Erin, you're scaring me."_

"Don't be scared," I soothed. "It'll be fine. I want to do this, more than I've wanted to do anything in my life. But – phone my parents, Cooper, Adelaide."

" _And tell them_ _ **what**_ _?"_ Danielle let out a sniffle and I was amazed to realise that she was _crying_. We were close, sure, but we weren't that close; were we? _"That their daughter is running off with some weirdo?"_

I sighed. "Dani, don't tell them _that_. I'm travelling for a while, is all. Seeing what's out there. And I want you to tell them that I love them, that I'm safe, and that I'll be back."

And then I hung up; quick, fast, with no time for regret. Like when I wax my legs. I stared at the phone in my hands, wondering if I should bin it to show a symbolic representation of leaving my old life behind, when I realised that _that_ was a daft decision. This was an Iphone 8; I was _not_ binning it.

I ran up to where the Doctor and Zero were stood, debating in the centre of the plaza. The Doctor held out his hand as I approached, and I took in on-instinct. Zero zeroed in – oh, my inner monologue is funny sometimes – and gave a feral grin.

"Oh, isn't this _sweet_ ," he crooned. I was a bit disconcerted by the fact that the little boy's voice came out of the _mother's_ mouth.

"Rush job," the Doctor explained to me. "You got the voices a bit muddled up, eh, Zero?"

"That is not my name!" He snarled. "I am more than what the Atraxi claim me to be! Not a villain, but a hero! Seeking to end the tyranny of the Church!"

"Oh, is he one of those atheist fanatics?" I winced. "You were a lot more badass before that revelation."

"He's from the 51st century, Erin, the Church is an entirely different organisation there." The Doctor smiled and then, hidden from Zero's sight, pulled his sonic from his pocket. He had a plan… I was the distraction.

"Why don't you just give yourself in?" I asked, feigning sympathy. "I'm sure the Atraxi-"

Zero hissed at the mere mention of the name. "The Atraxi will execute me for certain this time! I have escaped from their pitiful prison through mere chance; they will not let the embarrassment _grow_."

I frowned at that – there was no trickery to what he was saying, I could sense that. "How'd you escape then? We found the meteor you rode here in and the Doctor said-"

"The _Doctor_ is a fool," Zero said, matter-of-factly.

The Doctor hummed in agreement. "That does seem to be the general consensus after eleven bodies, yes."

"Shush." I flapped a hand at him. "Zero, how'd you escape?"

"There was a fracture," the little boy said. I looked down in shock; he seemed so… _innocent_. "Didn't the good Doctor tell you how the Atraxi keep their prisoners? In another dimension. They seal us all there, suspended where we can't have any _fun_ , and the only way to get out is through death."

"Easy to escape from," the Doctor said, down my ear. "If you have a TARDIS."

"But then I saw it," Zero's eyes lit up. "A fracture, a split, a _crack_. The Void seeped through and turned everything it touched to black. The Atraxi ripped open our prison to find it being destroyed from the inside _out_. I escaped in all the confusion."

The Doctor had stopped with his secret plot to contain Zero, mouth open like a fish taking a breath. "There was a gap to the Void?"

" _Yes_." Zero let out a childlike laugh, giggles bursting from his throat. "Didn't the Doctor know? Good Doctor. I've heard about you, you know. Last of his kind. Destroyer of Worlds. The Oncoming Storm."

"Stop it," the Doctor ordered. "Who opened the Void? What caused the fracture?"

Zero laughed again. "How should I know? I simply reaped the rewards. I am not going back there, Doctor, not to face my death. If I am to die, there will be _fire_."

"Hm, yeah, maybe that. Sure." The Doctor raised up his arm – there, tight in his grasp, was the sonic screwdriver. "Or, _or_ , I could call the Atraxi right here, right now. 'Cause d'you know what screams out 'alien' like _nothing_ else? A sonic screwdriver."

And then his thumb hit the button and the world erupted into chaos; the lights around us exploded, the fountain spurted out water at twice the velocity of before, mobility scooters took those sitting in them on a journey like no other and I even spotted a fire engine driving down the street with no one inside it, sirens blaring.

"Holy hell," I gasped, as the day only grew stranger as the giant eyeball from before made a re-appearance, suspended in the centre of a giant crystalline structure. "Is _that_ the Atraxi?"

"So you have called them here," Zero didn't _seem_ very concerned. "Do I look like myself right now, Doctor?"

"Nope." I waved up at the giant eyeball – it was already looking at us. "But they probably know all what you look like anyway, 'cause we sent them a little message with all your disguises in it."

Zero jumped forwards and the Doctor pulled me out of harms way, arms tight around my waist.

"Do you know what you've done?" Zero asked, as a golden shimmer travelled across its body. "I will be executed!"

"Go to your death with some dignity," said the Doctor, sounding far older than he had ever done before. "Give yourself that, Zero."

The façade of a mother and her little boy faded away to show what Prisoner Zero really was; it was sort of like a snake, or an eel, or maybe them both mixed together, with long sharp teeth. _"The Pandorica waits for you, Doctor,"_ a voice whispered, though Zero's mouth never opened.

"That's a fairytale," the Doctor replied, as Zero was beamed upwards. "And an old one."

I watched as the Atraxi gave one more glance over the area, finding nothing of importance, before zooming back up into space. I even gave a little wave as they left, the sky returning to normal.

"Is it over?" I asked the Doctor.

"Not yet," he answered, sneaking my phone from my back pocket. "I'm sorry."

I span to face him, heart in my throat. Had he taken back his offer, I wondered? Didn't he want me to come with him anymore? "What for?"

"The bill," he said, simply. His fingers quickly tapped against the touchscreen of my phone, faster than I could keep with. "Oi! You lot, d'you think you're done? You were about to _incinerate_ a level five planet – article fifty-seven of the Shadow Proclamation, mate, this place is protected."

"Are you calling them _back_?" I demanded, utterly appalled. "They were leaving!"

"Never coming back is better," the Doctor intoned. "Meet me on the roof of Saint Anne's Hospital, soon as you like." Then he threw my phone back. " _Now_ it's over."

I followed as he walked back over to the SUV, constantly shifting my disbelieving eyes from the phone to him. "You brought the giant eyeballs back to scold them?"

"Pretty much, yes." The Doctor stopped on the threshold of the car, spinning to face me. "You're not coming with me."

"Oh." Sadness washed over me and, to my complete horror, tears began prickling my eyes. I… I'd been looking forward to it; had I done something wrong? "Why?"

The Doctor shrugged, running his hands up and down my arms in what I guessed was meant to be a comforting gesture. "It'll just be easier for you if you wait by the TARDIS; I have more to do than just sort out the Atraxi."

"Wait," I grabbed at his hand, making him pause for the moment. "I- I _am_ coming with you?"

"Of course," he said. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No! Never, I want to come with you I just thought _you'd_ changed your mind." With a self-conscious laugh, I stepped away. "Obviously our communication skills are rusty."

"I've been on my own for a long time, now." The Doctor's lips curled up into a very lonely half-smile. "It'll… it'll be good to have company again. And, besides, you'd be great up there. Look at how you handled the Atraxi and Zero today. Amazing Erin."

I gave him my own, much less lonely, smile. "Amazing Doctor."

"Go," he instructed, gently pushing me away. "I'll meet you at the TARDIS; prepare yourself for a new life, Erin Wilson."

"We start our new lives together," I pointed out, with a laugh. And then I ran.

I knew that to get back to Shoreditch, I'd need to go by train – I wanted to get there as soon as possible, wanted to _start_ the new life he'd promised me. It was only when I looked back, a speck in the distance, that I realised the Doctor had watched me run away.

Excitement buzzed in my stomach like a beehive, making me feel nervous as I swerved around the pedestrians on the street. If travelling with the Doctor was like anything I'd seen today, I knew that there'd be an awful lot of running to do. I'd better get a headstart on it, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin's travels with the Doctor have only just begun...

**CHAPTER THREE**

It took me ages to get back to Shoreditch – all of the trains were delayed, on account of the world almost ending – and it was past noon by the time I made it back to the park where the TARDIS had crashed. Adrenaline pumped through my bloodstreams as my boots crunched over the frosty grass in the park, and there was a fear, a small one, at the back of my skull.

What if the Doctor had already left? He could’ve just been lying to me to be nice… I doubted my theory, but still. He might’ve left.

I turned the final corner and saw the blue box sat upright, glistening with what looked like a new coat of paint. Leaning on the doors, wearing a tweed jacket and an actual _bow tie_ , was him.

“You took your time,” the Doctor said, greeting me with a grin. “Thought I’d have to get UNIT to send out a search warrant.”

“How’d you get here so quick?” I asked, panting heavily. I’d ran the entire way, whenever I wasn’t on the train… which wasn’t much, I’ll admit. “Is that another Time Lord ability? You can make an hour long journey in half that?”

He shrugged at the question. “I have my ways, Erin. Also, you should be glad to know that the Shadow Proclamation have fired the Atraxi. Zero wasn’t the only prisoner who escaped, apparently, and the Shadow Proclamation wasn’t too happy about that. The giant eyeballs are now outcasts of galactic society.”

“Is that a good thing?” I was less happy about the situation than he was. “I mean, the Atraxi weren’t to blame for their prison getting broken into. What _was_ that fracture thing Zero mentioned anyway?”

“Something troubling,” the Doctor admitted. “I’ve seen gaps like he described before – gone through them, in fact. But the Atraxi prison wasn’t _inside_ the Void, it was just inside another dimension like the TARDIS. I don’t know what’s causing it but, whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

“I figured.” I stepped closer. “Speaking of the TARDIS, is this it, then?”

“’ _Is this it, then_ ’,” he mocked, smoothing a hand over the blue wooden door. “Don’t listen to her, you’re beautiful.”

“It’s just a box,” I said. “Does it really hold all of that stuff you mentioned? A… a library and a swimming pool?”

“Or a library _with_ a swimming pool,” the Doctor wagged a finger at me. “Like I said, the TARDIS contains a different dimension inside. Have a look.”

At his words, he snapped two of his fingers together and the doors swung open, inwards. The clear invitation made me take a few, hesitant steps inside. Almost immediately after I’d placed a foot inside, I backed out again.

“That’s impossible,” I gasped.

“Is it?” The Doctor questioned, softly. “Think of all the things you’ve witnessed since we first met, Erin. Is a blue box that’s bigger on the inside _really_ that far out of your comfort zone?”

He had a point, I had to admit. So, I summoned my courage and walked back inside; the room glowed with golden light, larger than my entire flat. In the centre was a glass podium, set up a bit higher than everything else, where there was an alien console with a column rising up in the middle.

“It’s wonderful,” I breathed out. “Oh, it’s _amazing_.”

“Welcome to the TARDIS,” the Doctor announced with a shout, bounding past me and up the stairs. “It stands for ‘Time and Relative Dimension in Space’. It’s mine.”

“Do you own her?” I slowly climbed up the glass steps to reach him, running my hands over everything within reach. “Or did you _borrow_ her like the bike?”

“I always intended to give her back,” he said.

I scoffed. “And the clothes? Where’d you get the braces from?”

“The hospital where I met the Atraxi,” the Doctor answered. He twanged on the aforementioned braces, looking at them with affection. “Don’t I look cool?”

“You ransacked some random locker room at a hospital and you come away with a _bow tie_ , of all things?” I shook my head. “You definitely are alien.”

“Bow ties are cool,” he said. “And none of this is important anyhow. You, Erin Wilson, have _all_ of time and space at your fingertips. Pick anywhere in creation to go, and you’ll be there in five minutes.”

Even though I’d gone along with everything else, I found this hard to believe. “ _Anywhere_ in creation?”

The Doctor nodded eagerly. “Start of the universe, end of the universe, boring middle part of the universe. The creation of the Milky Way. The death of the Milky Way. You pick it. I’ll take you.”

“Wow,” I paced up and down on the spot. “There’s _so_ many places I want to- the Library of Alexandria! The pyramids when they were new! China before the Great Wall! The Babylonian empire! America when it was still a free country… oh, I can’t possibly pick.”

“And that’s just the _past_ ,” the Doctor said, watching me with a big smile on his face. “Think of it. All of the places you’re considering, they’re before the year 2016. I can take you into the _future_.”

That was the moment my head just sort of… _exploded_.

“I can’t pick,” I told him, walking around the console so we were stood face-to-face. “There- there’s just _so much_ out there. It’d take forever to even choose.”

The smile that was on his face, already massive to begin with, only grew at my words. “Okay. Forward, or back?”

“… forward,” I said, after a moment.

“Spaceship or planet? Or neither?”

An actual _spaceship_ , oh- “The first one.”

“Any aliens?” This question was accompanied by a waggle of his practically non-existent eyebrows.

“You’re more than enough alien for me,” I told him. “So, where have you picked?”

All I got was a mysterious smile. The Doctor left my side, pulling and flicking things on the console in a random pattern. I trailed after him the entire time, poking at his side.

“Doctor, _tell_ me.”

“It’s a surprise,” he said. A great wheezing sound filled the console room, causing me to look up in surprise. “Don’t worry, that’s normal.”

“It’s a very unique sound,” I said, diplomatically. “You wouldn’t miss it in a crowd.”

That was when our ride turned jumpy; the floor rolled beneath our feet like we were on an _actual_ ship at sea, throwing me around. I had to hang onto the railing surrounding the console for dear life – but the Doctor… the Doctor ignored it, jumping across the small glass platform like a kangaroo on drugs.

At one point, he stopped at my side. “Oh, it’s just like I remember it!”

“ _This_ is normal?!” I had to scream my words so that he’d hear them over the _vworps_ of the TARDIS.

“Perfectly,” the Doctor replied. “Oh, new me, new TARDIS, new companion, new sonic – this day couldn’t get any better!”

“New sonic?” I didn’t recall the Doctor breaking his sonic screwdriver at all. “What happened?”

He paused on the other side of the console, hands splayed out across the controls but not touching them. I could see his face, through a gap in the main column, and whatever was there made me uneasy; that wasn’t the look of a man being trustworthy.

“I had a bit of trouble with the Atraxi,” he said, after a second. “It got fried – the TARDIS gave me a new one.” The Doctor demonstrated this by pulling the sonic out and whizzing it at me; it was larger, silver and gold in colour with four claws protecting the light, which was green instead of blue. “I like it.”

“It’s nice,” I told him, still a bit disconcerted that he’d so _openly_ lied to me. Had he thought I wouldn’t notice?

The TARDIS settled with a jolt that sent me flying a bit, so I caught myself on the console.

“Have we landed?” I eagerly asked.

The Doctor nodded his head rapidly, gesturing to the door like a master chef would do to a freshly prepared meal. “Erin Wilson, there’s a spaceship out there waiting for you.”

“There’s a spaceship in here, too,” as I said this, I walked to the doors. It was such an impossible moment – to walk out onto an actual _spaceship_ , in space, filled with space-y stuff…

What I opened the doors to see was, in fact, _not_ a spaceship. In fact, it was space itself.

“Oh,” I gasped, realising that I was stood amongst stars and galaxies and planets. None of those things were in my immediate sight, of course; only a giant grey spaceship, run-down and battered, slowly moved across the empty blackness of space. On its side was painted a great big Union Flag.

“Starship UK,” the Doctor softly explained, having moved to my side at some point in all my wonder. “See, in the 29th century, solar flares roast the planet. Virtually makes it so that the human race has to pack up all their bags and migrate to the stars. That’s what this ship is; the entire country of the United Kingdom, migrated to the stars.”

“29th century,” I repeated. “That’s eight hundred years away for me. I must be… oh, I don’t want to even _think_ of how old I am now.”

“That’s a good method to things,” he said. “Want to go down and see?”

“And get in trouble?” I nudged my shoulder into his.

“Ah, no.” The Doctor shook his head as he walked back to the main console. I shut the doors and followed him, barely a step behind him. “I never get involved with the affairs of the places I visit.”

“If I had water in my mouth, I’d have spat it out.” Staring incredulously at him, I had to wonder if he was just pulling my leg. “Have you forgotten the alien invasion we stopped an _hour_ ago?”

He waved off my words. “That was different. The Atraxi were breaking the law.”

“So, what, we see a guy get murdered and we just… let history take its toll?” My head was reeling trying to make sense of everything. “Because, even though this is _my_ future, it’s still history. It just hasn’t happened yet for me.”

“Clever Erin,” the Doctor remarked. It was becoming something of a catchphrase for him. “Also, we always use the scanner before we leave the TARDIS. Don’t want to step into a volcano – again.”

The ‘scanner’ was an old TV with radio dials beneath, suspended on a little rail that could go all around the console. It was stamped with the logo of Magpie Electricals, a company I vaguely recalled. Whatever was there made the Doctor frown; he looked older immediately.

“What is it?” I asked, at his side.

He wordlessly gestured to the screen, which showed a little girl – no older than six or seven – sat crying on a red bench. People passed by her, uncaring.

“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” I wondered. “She’s obviously upset, Doctor- Doctor!” My calling of his name ended on a high point when I realised that the Doctor was _on the scanner_ , sat comforting the little girl. He looked at the camera and waved to me; the cheeky sod probably knew I was watching.

Of course, saying that ‘ _there’s a spaceship out there_ ’ is a lot different to actually being on a spaceship. From the second I step foot on Starship UK, I became acutely aware of how different everything was… but also how similar it was.

I saw the Doctor with the girl at the far end of a large market place, where people were flogging their goods. It felt a _bit_ like I was on Eastenders, what with the replica of the Queen Victoria near the fruit and veg stall. Lights were strung from the ceiling and people rode around on bicycles, which I found to be odd. They all looked so _human_.

“Erin!” The Doctor called. “I want to introduce you to someone!”

Weaving my way though the crowd of people was easy – British people didn’t lose their sense of politeness, it seemed – and when I reached the Doctor and the little girl only a minute had passed.

“Hello,” I said, sitting down on the other side of her. She looked up at me, eyes reddened by tears, and I felt my heartstrings be pulled rather viciously. “I’m Erin, though the Doctor probably already told you.”

“Mandy,” the girl introduced herself as, a bit snottily. Not in a bad way, but more of a ‘ _my nose is all blocked up from crying_ ’ way. I could relate. “The Doctor said you were nice.”

I glanced at him, slightly surprised, but took it in my stride. “Well, the Doctor only says that because he’s hiding how nice _he_ is. He saw that you were upset when no one else did.”

“Oh, they realise,” the Doctor corrected me. There was a scathing tone to his voice. “They just don’t want to notice it. Look at them, parents, grandparents, looking at a crying child and not doing anything. Only one reason why they’d do that.”

“They can’t do anything,” Mandy told him. “ _No one_ can. Not even the Queen.”

“Britain still has a monarchy?” I asked, a bit surprised.

The Doctor shushed me. “Mandy, why can’t they do anything? You’re crying silently, any parent knows that means you just can’t stop crying. What’s wrong?”

“It’s- I can’t say anything!” She said this in a fierce whisper, eyes pointing in terror at a nearby booth. I hadn’t paid it any attention earlier but now that I actually _looked_ , I noticed something… off. Everything else on the starship was dirty, fixed up, but those booths were spotless. Inside the booths were these men… robots, surely, with a fixed smile upon their face.

“Creepy,” I said, in an undertone. “Definitely creepy.”

“What are they?” The Doctor asked. I saw how he’d pulled his sonic out and was covertly scanning the booth.

“Smilers,” answered Mandy. “They’re sort of… they do everything we can’t do, but they watch over us. There’s one wherever you look. In every house, vator, shop.” Her voice went very quiet. “Schools, too.”

“Guards,” the Doctor explained to me. “To watch over the populace and to make sure no one discusses anything they shouldn’t. Effectively, they’re the foot soldiers of a police state.”

I reached over Mandy to slap him on the arm. “The United Kingdom turns into a _police state_?”

“Look at this place, Erin,” he implored. “Nothing makes sense when you take a good, deep _look_.”

At these words, both Mandy and I looked around; there was nothing there I hadn’t seen before. The dirty, run-down buildings, the scurrying of those too fearful to meet a gaze, the unnatural stillness of it all… my eyes fixed on a glass of water on a table at a café, where the water rested perfectly in the cup.

“We’re on a spaceship?” I asked, for confirmation.

“Starship UK,” Mandy said. “The combined countries of England, Wales and Northern Ireland all on one ship. We have to do history lessons about what it was like back on Earth. Dead boring.”

I stood up, still focused on the water. “We’re on a spaceship, with an _engine_?”

“Now you’re getting it,” he murmured, approvingly. Then the Doctor tapped on Mandy’s shoulder. “I said ‘ _clever Erin_ ’ too, didn’t I?”

“I don’t get it,” Mandy said. “What’s so important about an engine? Every spaceship has one.”

“Yes, they do.” I turned back to the little girl, crouching down so that we were eye-to-eye. “But you see, Mandy, what did your teacher tell you about engines?”

She frowned at the question. “They power things, make us go faster. Without an engine, the ship would fall apart and we’d all die.”

“And can you _feel_ an engine when aboard a ship?” The Doctor’s tone was very kind, very gentle. I’d never heard him speak like that before. When Mandy nodded, a bit shy, he continued; “Then why can’t you feel any vibrations?”

We all froze as she made the connection.

“That’s impossible,” Mandy whispered. “We _need_ an engine to survive.”

“And yet, Starship UK doesn’t have one.” I stroked down Mandy’s hair, surprised to see that the Doctor was doing it too on the other side of her face. “Sorry to bring this all on you.”

“I know what happened to him now,” she said. “He must’ve figured it out, or – or done something to anger the Smilers and they sent him below.”

“Below?” The Doctor’s voice turned very sharp. “Who’d they send below, Mandy?”

Mandy let out a tiny sob. “Timmy. I was waiting for him here and his vator went to floor zero. _No one_ goes to floor zero unless they’re getting sent below.”

“That sounds cheery,” I muttered. “And is Timmy the same age as you?”

At her teary nod, the Doctor and I shared a dark glance.

“Go head off to home,” the Doctor said, patting her on the back. “Erin will take you.”

"I will?" I asked, with surprise.

The Doctor fidgeted on the chair for a second, torn between explaining himself and simply sending us on our way. Eventually, he nudged Mandy and whispered; "Go wait by the vator for her."

I watched Mandy walk away with a slouch to her shoulders, feeling great sympathy for the little girl. "Poor thing," I murmured. "How can they all just watch her cry and do _nothing_?"

"Especially the parents," the Doctor replied. "Any good parent knows that when a child cries silently it's because they just can't _stop_."

"Are you-" I stopped myself before the question could fully escape me. He'd already said that when he lost his people, he lost his entire family. The Doctor was almost a thousand years old – it was entirely plausible that he could have had children. It made me want to cry for him.

The Doctor had stilled at my half-formed question, obviously knowing where it would've led. He stared at me out of the corner of his eye, nervously licking his lips as he waited to see if I'd finish my sentence.

In all honesty, I was more focused on his lips; he noticed that, a cocky grin emerging. "Shut up," I said, flustered, before he could say anything about it. "Why should I go with Mandy?"

"She's figured out the truth," the Doctor explained, still smirking. "That puts her at risk. Besides, I need you to investigate those Smilers more; they're everywhere, watch over everything, but _why_?"

"And what will you be doing?" I stood, cocking out my hip. His eyes seemed distracted by that, and I let out a little smirk of my own. I wasn't the only one feeling attraction, it seemed. "Helping more crying children?"

"It's the main reason why I do what I do," he said. There was no humour to his words, no hidden sarcasm, only honest, genuine truth. He was a million in one, not just because he was an alien with two hearts but also because he was a _good_ man.

And, I suspected, he was also once a good father.

I nodded silently and caught up to where Mandy was waiting at the vator; her eyes were still red-ringed, with her shoulders straighter than they were before. She looked determined.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"They'll pay for what they did to Timmy," she told me, confidently. I believed her.

The 'vator' was literally just a lift with a Smiler watching us, the floors quickly whizzing past as we climbed up through England. It all felt weird in a way that I'd quickly grown used to; it felt like spending two weeks abroad. At first, everything was new and unusual and you couldn't figure it out. Then you click onto the way things are, and suddenly it's like you were born to travel.

I never thought that year I spent backpacking around the world would be good for anything – neither did my parents – but now I was glad for it.

We exited the vator together, one of my arms wrapping itself around Mandy's shoulders. The street we were on was dark and unused, the unmistakable air of danger coating the atmosphere.

Suddenly, Mandy stopped walking.

"We have to go back," she said.

"What? Why?" Looking ahead, I saw a yellow striped tent in the middle of the road, blocking the route. "What is that?"

"It's a hole in the road," Mandy explained. "We can't go that way – we'll have to turn around."

"A _hole_?" I didn't know much about how spaceships were made - only that they needed an engine and thus the one we were standing on was impossible - but even impossible starships didn't get _potholes_. I approached the tent and found the entrance locked by one of those big padlocks; everything on this ship looked like it came from the '8os, I swear.

The padlock stared up at me innocently, as if it wasn't aware of the turmoil currently raging inside my mind. I _should_ go back, make sure Mandy was taken to safety, but the mystery was too tempting.

Lockpicking was a skill that had come in handy as a teenager that loved to sneak out and was often grounded as a result. I'd learned it when I was nineteen, taught over a series of weekends of the summer holidays by an American man who'd taken a special shine to me at one of my many visits to the Royal Art Gallery.

I took a pin from my hair and set to work on the lock, rooting around inside.

"What are you doing?" Mandy demanded. "You'll make the Smilers mad."

"I think they're already upset with me," I quipped. "I can't make things much worse."

Mandy quietly watched me work for several moments, chewing on her bottom lip.

"How'd you and your boyfriend get here, anyway?"

"He isn't my boyfriend," was how I chose to start my sentence. She scoffed quietly behind me and I swivelled my head around to raise an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"The Doctor doesn't talk like a _friend_ would," she said. "He kept calling you 'lovely' and 'smart'."

"He does that," I defended. "And, to get back to the original point, he brought me here on a trip. He's got this ship and- it can go all over. I helped him with something and he asked me to travel with him."

"Is that smart? My mums say never travel with a stranger."

I gave a gentle laugh. "He wouldn't abandon me. He isn't like that." The lock clicked open and my laugh turned into one of victory. "Result! I knew I hadn't lost my mad skills."

Mandy let out a disgusted groan. "You're so _old_."

That statement was more truthful than she could ever know and it gave me a moment of reflection as I stood up and opened the flap to the tent. The Doctor was nine centuries old; was this how he felt?

"You coming?" I gestured inside the empty tent.

She looked conflicted for a moment before rapidly shaking her head. "I- I need to get home. Tell my parents about everything. 'Sides, those things are everywhere. There's nothing special about them."

"Suit yourself," I said. "Just be careful on your way back, yeah?"

Mandy nodded and set off walking. I waited until she turned the corner before ducking inside; it was pitch black and I could barely see five inches in front of my face. There was a gentle breeze, though, and when I reached out to try and feel my way in the room, my fingertips felt something smooth and slick, rising up out of the ground. It almost felt like a snake.

I rummaged around in my back pocket for my keyring, fumbling for the mini-torch I kept on it. Turning it on, I first saw the tarmac of the street and the yellow walls surrounding me.

Then I saw what my hand was touching; a tentacle rose up from the centre of a hole, a claw on the end, and as my fingers accidentally stroked the ribbed spine of the tentacle, a vibration came up through the scales – like the creature was purring.

Stepping a bit closer, I murmured; "What _are_ you?"

Perhaps it was a response to my question, or pure coincidence, but as I moved closer to the creature a terrible scream ripped into my mind – it was everywhere, coating every thought and memory I had, making my heart burst with pain. I staggered backwards, escaping the tent and the horror inside, and fell onto the floor outside.

Panting for several seconds, my mind was mostly focused on the echoes of the scream – it had been the creature, I was certain of it, but how had I heard it?

Looking up, what I saw next made my heart freeze; I was surrounding by a circle of men all wearing hooded black robes and the one in front – a black man with vacant looking eyes – raised a closed fist. On his centre finger was a ring, a green jewel, and I blinked at it as a little spurt of gas came out and hit me right in the face.

I was asleep in moments.

*

I came to in a chair. My hands weren't strapped down and my body felt physically fine, if a little sluggish from the drug. It was my head that was the problem; all I could remember was the creature's pure scream of terror in the dark.

Looking around, I saw that there wasn't much to the room that I was in; it was bare, nothing more than the chair I was sat in and a set of four screens on a cabinet in front of me. Directly beneath the screens were three buttons, one labelled ' _Forget_ ' and the other ' _Protest_ ', with a larger ' _Record_ '.

I thought it all rather sinister even before I spotted the Smiler watching me. Then I became doubly so scared.

 _"Welcome to voting cubicle 330C,"_ down floated a voice from speakers attached to the walls. _"Please leave this installation as you would wish to find it. The United Kingdom recognises the right to know all of its citizens. A presentation concerning the history of Starship UK will begin shortly. Your identity is being verified on our electoral roll. Name; Erin Wilson. Age; thirteen hundred and eight."_

Well, that certainly didn't make me feel any better. Then the computer continued on;

_"Marital status; married."_

My brain sort of fritzed out; I got _married_? To who? When? Was this after I stopped travelling with the Doctor or... during? Did he know?

A man appeared on-screen, old and withered with half-moon spectacles.

 _"You are here because you want to know the truth about this starship and I am talking to you because you are entitled to know. When this presentation is finished, you will have a choice; you may either protest-"_ The button flashed red at his words. _"Or forget."_ This button flashed green. It was hard not to notice the symbolism. _"If you chose to protest, understand this; if just one percent of the population of this ship to likewise, the programme will be discontinued with consequences for you all. If you chose to accept the situation, and we hope that you will, then press the 'Forget' button. All the information I'm about to give you will be erased from your memory. You will continue to enjoy the safety and amenities of Starship UK, unburdened by the knowledge of what has been done to save you. Here then, is the truth about Starship UK and the price that has been paid for the safety of the British people."_ He paused. _"May God have mercy on our souls."_

It was a ransom, basically; _agree with our methods and everything will be fine. Disagree and you'll ruin everything_.

The presentation began to play, flicking by with such speed that the information had barely registered in my mind before it was over -

_Stars- burning – children crying – terrible truth – we did what we had to._

And my hand slammed down on the ' _Protest_ ' button.

A gasp left my mouth, tears beginning to stream down my face. I – I couldn't even _remember_ why I'd hit the button, everything was a blur, but the scream came back louder than it had ever been and I knew I'd made the right decision.

The Smiler behind me began to click and I knew without looking that it had moved; when I glanced behind me, it was... _snarling_ at me – a robotic face that was genuinely scary.

A rumble beneath my feet made me jump up and notice that the entire room was shaking, sending me flying into the corner of the wall. The door banged and at first I thought it was just the room, but then I heard something else behind it; an electronic whirring.

_Sonic._

"Doctor!" I screeched, throwing myself at the metal gate and slamming my fists against it. "Doctor!"

And then, by the luck of the gods, I heard his angelic voice; "ERIN!"

"Doctor, you have to get me out of here!" I wobbled, feet suddenly unsteady, and realised that the floor was moving beneath me; it was sliding from the other side of the room, revealing a deep red chasm beneath. "Doctor, the floor's opening up!"

"Just hold on!" He called.

"There's nothing to hold _onto_!" I scrambled against the door, trying desperately to grab ahold of something, scratching against the metal.

"Don't worry, I'll-"

The floor had now almost completely gone, only two or three feet left before my fall from _life_ and I screamed – not in terror, but in pain. My mind was racked with the scream again, higher in intensity than before. I realised, with an epiphany that I couldn't explain, that wherever this fall led to would be the home of the creature.

I'd- I don't know why, but I felt like I'd be safe there. Certainly safer than being trapped inside this room, with the Scowler glaring at me from his booth.

I took a deep gulp, filled with confidence, and spoke loudly to the Doctor; "I'll be fine. Just find me. I'll be down below."

" _ERIN_!"

Falling with a screech, my arms were tucked into my body as I stretched out. The square room eventually narrowed into a tube and I actually felt excited - this was more like a really high-tech water park - until I landed with a wet squelch.

There was around a foot of- not _water_ , I'd say, as it was too clouded with food refuse. Everything around me looked like rubbish and I felt like I'd fallen into a Star Wars movie when I wasn't looking. Glancing around, I guessed that I was in some kind of waste disposal, with several metal tubes delivering the rubbish - which I was part of, I guess.

My self-confidence had really taken a nose dive since I'd landed on this bloody spaceship, and now being covered in the gunk wasn't helping that.

Still, the room I was in was practically a cavern; I flicked my pathetic little torch on but it didn't even light up the _roof_. The floor was squishy and spongy beneath me, causing me to bounce several times to try and figure out what it was made of.

I glanced around for a few minutes, trying to spot a way out; there was only the empty darkness, occasionally broke up by the glint of a metal tube. I noticed that all of the food was organic - stuff that even I could eat, had it not been covered in disgusting gunk. It almost smelled like saliva which was, y'know, just _impossible_.

Eventually, I'd calmed down enough to spot something hanging down from the far-away ceiling; I pointed my flashlight at it, frowning deeply. It looked... pink. And round. Almost like...

"Tonsils..." I whispered aloud, before immediately carrying on with; " _No_. Don't be – no."

I turned on my heel and looked down to the other side of the mou- no. No. It _couldn't_ be. Just no. It was ridiculous.

"Okay," I said to myself. "Imagine that the Doctor was here. What would _he_ do?" I considered it for a moment and then put on an accent that didn't resemble his whatsoever and waved my hands around as I spoke; _"Wow, this is all so cool! Lovely Erin, what do_ _ **you**_ _think?"_

I laughed quietly to myself.

"I'm so funny."

Suddenly, a whooshing sound hit my ears from the nearest metal tube; I watched, amazed, as a man came flying out of it and hit the tong- the _floor_ with some speed. He jumped up afterwards, usually floppy hair plastered to his head with the gunk and inspected the immediate view in front of him.

Then, after only a few seconds, he announced; "This is so _cool_!"

"Doctor!" I yelled, grabbing his attention. He turned and his face lit up upon seeing me, though I didn't get the chance to stare at him for long; I took a short running jump into his arms and we collapsed onto the floor, bodies entwined tightly.

He was half-sat up, to avoid choking on the water, and had buried his face into my neck. I could feel the quick puffs of breath and it, honestly, sent shivers down my spine.

"I was so worried!" The Doctor confessed, patting down my hair and shoulders as he moved back. I beamed down at him and wiped the gross food from his cheeks. "What happened?"

"A _lot_ ," I began, with a sigh. Slowly, I explained the mad tale that had taken me from the tentacle-creature with the silent screaming to my current predicament. "And that's the thing, Doctor, I don't think this room _is_ a room."

"It looks like a cave," he admitted. "Can't be a cave, though. I mean, we've travelled six hundred feet down, twenty miles laterally, puts us at the heart of the ship. Lancashire, maybe?"

I swatted his arm. "Don't be rude."

We stood up together, clinging on tight so we wouldn't slip or fall over. The water sloshed around our knees, causing the Doctor to wring his nose.

"All organic, coming through feeder tubes from all over the ship. Ah." He was slowly coming to the same conclusion that I, reluctantly, had. "But what's it feeding? Your mystery creature?"

There was a rumble beneath our feet that caused me to jump, bouncing on the rubbery surface when I landed again. "Doctor, I think we need to come up with something _fast_."

"' _This room isn't a room_ '," the Doctor repeated, holding my gaze. "Why'd you say that?"

I sent him a dry look and pointed my flashlight at the tonsils. "Because _look_ at them."

"I... see." He turned to fully face the tonsils, inspecting them with a narrow slant of his forehead. Then he bounced on the floor, once, and stopped moving altogether. He didn't even _breathe_ , which led me to silently begin wondering if he needed to breathe and, if so, how long could he hold his breath for?

 _Priorities, Erin_.

"Not a room," the Doctor said, rather slowly. "Not a floor, either. A- it's – it's a-"

He seemed to have some difficulty getting the final words out, so I finished the sentence for him; "Tongue. It's a bloody _tongue_."

"A tongue," the Doctor repeated. He sounded stupidly giddy. "A great, big, _bloody_ tongue!"

"We're in a giant mouth," I realised. I'd figured it out earlier but had been steadily pretending I hadn't. I missed the ignorance of it all. "This entire _cavern_ is a mouth?"

"On the plus side, _roomy_."

I could’ve slapped him for thinking that there even _was_ a 'plus side' to this entire horrible experience; had I really thought falling down here was such a good idea? I was a moron.

"Doctor," I snapped my fingers to grab his attention. "How do we get out?"

"How big _is_ this beastie?" The Doctor asked, mentally wandering off some. "It's gorgeous. Blimey, if this is _just_ the mouth, then I'd love to see the stomach. Though, not right now."

"Great, big, bloody mouth; any advice on how to _escape_ that?"

"Some," he admitted. "None of it concrete, yet. Might get us killed."

"Because everything else was so safe," I quipped.

The Doctor smirked at my words, appreciating the levity I brought to the situation. It was mostly there so I didn't start panicking. "If it's being fed through surgically implanted feeder tubes, the normal entrance is closed for business."

He grabbed the flashlight from my hand and whizzed at it with the sonic; when he turned it on again, it was three times as brighter than it had been before. The Doctor demonstrated this by pointing it at the far end of the room; I took a horrified gasp as several sharp rows of teeth glinted at us.

"Oh, that's disgusting," I muttered. "But also kind of fascinating."

"Really?" Asked the Doctor, with a raised eyebrow. "How does that _fascinate_ you?"

I swear to God, I'm not lying when I say there was something genuinely flirtatious to his tone there.

"Well, I mean, uh," a flirty Doctor was not something I had prepared for. "It's evolution? Look at the size of this thing; there's nothing as big as this on Earth that's actually _alive_. It's amazing. I wonder where it comes from, which planet had enough oxygen to let a creature be this gigantic."

From the Doctor's pride-filled smile, I figured I'd given the right answer.

"Er," I was eager to distract myself from his smile (it made him look boyishly handsome). "Why can't we use the normal exit?"

I took a step forwards, ready to leave him behind, when the Doctor grabbed my arm and spun me back around so I was pressed tight against his chest.

This was not helping matters.

"Stop," he ordered in a quiet mumble "Don't move."

I was about to question _why_ when the floor- the tongue beneath us vibrated, violently knocking me so that the Doctor's arm, curved around my waist, was the only thing keeping me held up.

Our gazes met, equal parts unnerved by the sudden turn of events.

"Too late," he said. "It's started."

"What has?" I asked, straightening up. He didn't drop the arm and I didn't feel confident enough to ask that he would.

"Swallow reflex," the Doctor told me, almost absently. He stepped away, causing me to let out an almost minuscule sigh of relief (which he no doubt noticed. There was no way he wouldn't, he's the _Doctor_ ), and began buzzing the sonic at the roof of the mouth.

"What are you doing?" The vibrations beneath our feet were only getting stronger, causing me to panic.

"I'm vibrating the chemo-receptors."

I knew next to nothing about science, but even I knew that was a load of rubbish.

"You just made that up," I accused.

The Doctor sighed, glaring at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm pressing the _eject_ button."

"A mouth doesn't have an eject button," I said.

"Think about it!" He insisted.

I did think about it – and was promptly disgusted. He- he _wouldn't_. There had to be another solution. I looked behind me, back at the tonsils, and saw a huge wave of a putrid yellow colour. A smell radiated from it that made _me_ want to be sick.

"Oh no," I pushed at his arm. "No, no, _no_ , NO!"

"This isn't going to be big on dignity," the Doctor said. He showed of a manic grin; he probably _loved_ this. "GERONIMO!"

*

I awoke with the Doctor's hands all over me – a sentence that I never thought I'd say. He wasn't grabbing a feel, which I doubted he ever would under any circumstance, but was rather methodical in where he touched me.

"There's nothing broken," he assured me. "No sign of concussion and, yes, you _are_ covered in sick."

"Oh, god," I moaned, once the stench hit me. "This is worse than babysitting Coop when he was a baby."

"' _Coop_ '?"

"My, er, brother," I hastily explained. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Overspill pipe," the Doctor waved around at the narrow metal corridor. "I'm guessing we're not the first live food beastie's spat out over the years."

"It _stinks_ ," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"That isn't the pipe," he quietly said.

I slowly digested his words and glanced down at my clothing; I'd put these clothes on this morning, when I showered after spending the night watching over the Doctor. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

They really stunk right now.

"Can we get out?" I asked him; he'd obviously scoped the place out whilst I was out cold.

"One door," the Doctor gestured behind him. "One switch, one _condition_. We forget everything we saw. Look familiar?"

I pushed past him to investigate: there was another button here, like the one at the voting station earlier. The word ' _Forget_ ' loomed up at me, deceptively innocent. "I didn't press it then, so I won't press it now."

"Do you even remember what they wanted you to forget?" The Doctor's tone had a polite layer to it, which I didn't trust. It was like he was fishing for information. "You aren't acting like it."

"It was all really quick," I lamely explained. "I- I remember feeling... sad. Really, properly sad, like when you told me about your people being gone. It was... it was just-"

To my complete and utter horror, tears sprang to my eyes. I thought of the scream, still echoing in the back of my mind.

"It was _painful_ ," I said. "It was like torture."

The Doctor rested a hand on my shoulder, comforting me in silence. After a few moments, I covertly wiped at my eyes and shrugged off the hand. Turning back to him, I jolted in shock when I saw two Smiler booths behind him, slowly lighting up.

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor had apparently _forgotten_ to mention that we weren't alone. "The Forget button is the carrot – those two are the stick."

He strode towards them, tapping on the glass like an annoying child would at an aquarium.

"There's a creature living in agony at the heart of this ship. What's it _doing_ there?" In response to his words, the Smilers' faces switched around so that they turned into Frowners. "No," he openly scoffed at their intimidation technique. "That's not going to work on me, so let's cut the games. Big old beast below decks and everyone who protests gets shoved down its throat. That how the democracy of Great Britain works?"

Then, making me cringe at the sight, they became Scowlers. I recalled one from earlier and shuddered. There was something very unsettling about the creatures that I just couldn't put my finger on.

"Oh, _stop_. I'm not leaving and I'm not forgetting. What are you fellows gonna do about it? Stick out your tongues, huh?"

The doors to the Scowlers' podiums swung open and each one took a menacing step forwards. Immediately, the Doctor and I jumped backwards – I didn't even protest when he pushed me behind him for extra protection.

"You _just_ had to trash talk them, didn't you?" I asked, clinging onto his puke-soaked tweed jacket.

"It's a trait that's manifested in all eleven of my bodies," he defended. "I get nostalgic over it, okay?"

" _NO_ , not okay! Not even remotely okay!"

"GET DOWN!"

I didn't know who said it, didn't even care that much, but was far too happy to simply follow their command and drop down. The Doctor went with me, shielding me with his body. Through the cracks of light that came though, I saw two brief bursts of light and the smell of burning plastic.

When I looked up, there was a woman stood there; she wore a long red cape that framed her face, dark ebony skin and luscious black hair that was poorly hidden by the hood of the cape.

She looked badass as hell and when she helped me stand up with a kind smile, I only liked her more.

"Look who it is," said the Doctor, with recognition. "You look a lot better without the mask."

"You must be Erin," the woman greeted, shaking my (disgusting) hand. "Liz. Liz 10."

"Hello," I said, a bit dazed.

She gave me a once-over. "Yuck, but you're as pretty as he said you were. Shame about the sick. You know Mandy, yeah?"

"Is she okay?" I asked, panic overruling anything else I might have felt.

"Yeah, she's very brave. Sought me out after you two disappeared." Liz 10's words calmed me and I relaxed almost instantly, not really noticing that the Doctor let me curl into his side until I already had.

"How did you find us?" The Doctor asked, voice reverberating throughout me.

"Stuck my gizmo on you, been listenin' in," Liz 10 winked as she said this, though I hadn't a clue why. "Nice move on the hurl escape."

"You say that 'cause you're not the one covered in sick," I mumbled.

Liz 10 laughed under her breath before turning serious. "So, why's the big fella here?"

"You're over sixteen, you've voted." The Doctor had turned very dark, like he had with Prisoner Zero. "Whatever this is, why it's here, you've chosen to forget it."

"No," she said, coolly. She didn't even let the idea germinate for very long – cutting him down brutally. "Never forgot, never voted, not _technically_ a British subject."

The Doctor sounded exasperated as he asked next; "Then who and _what_ are you? And how do you know me?"

"You're a bit hard to miss, love," Liz 10 remarked. It was one of the most truthful things I'd heard since the TARDIS had first fallen out of the sky. "' _Mysterious stranger, M.O consistent with higher alien intelligence, hair of an idiot_ '." My lips twitched at the last one. "I've been brought up on the stories; everyone in the family was."

"Your family?" Asked the Doctor, slowly.

Her answer was cut short by an electrical twitching sound from behind us; I spun my head around to watch as the Scowlers began twitching on the floor.

"They're repairing," Liz 10 said, shortly. "Doesn't take 'em long. Let's move."

We left the room, haste causing our steps to be quick and precise. The Doctor and I both walked with a squelch, which was more disgusting than I expected it to be, and outside I let out a happy gasp when I saw Mandy waiting there; she breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing me but we couldn't stop, as the Scowlers were still following.

"The Doctor," began Liz 10, with the air of someone repeating a phrase they knew very well. "Old drinking buddy of Henry 12th, tea and scones with Liz 2-" I sent the Doctor an outraged look. "Vicky were a bit on the fence, though, weren't she? Knighted _and_ exiled on the same day... and so much so for the Virgin Queen, you bad, bad boy."

She said all this as we walked and I was torn between trying to understand why she was talking about famous kings and queens instead of her family and also realising that the Doctor had _met_ all of these people. He actually _knew_ the Queen!

"Liz 10," the Doctor muttered.

"Yeah," she stopped walking, turning around so we were forced to stop too. "Elizabeth the Tenth. And down!"

We ducked and she shot over our heads, felling the Scowlers once more. I let out a shaky breath; this was more dangerous than I'd originally imagined. All three of us looked up with wide eyes, though Mandy was the only one without surprise.

"I'm the bloody Queen, mate," Liz 10 smiled at us. I felt my brain implode. "Basically, I rule."

We turned off down into a darker, narrow corridor. My heart was in my throat and all I could think of was the fact that I was currently talking to the _Queen_ of _England_. I shared a grin with the Doctor, who could obviously sense how excited I was about this.

"There's a high-speed vator down here," Liz 10 explained. "Oh, and then there's these things."

To our left, kept behind huge panes of glass then covered by metal grates, were around fifteen or so of those tentacles I'd spotted earlier. They beat against the glass, trying to escape.

"Any ideas?"

I stepped forwards, pressing my own hand against the glass. "Doctor, this is what I saw up top. There was a hole and this was... growing out of it. When I touched it, it screamed in my head."

Liz 10 and Mandy winced but the Doctor, who already knew this, barely seemed unfazed. "Of course it screamed, it's all one creature with a starship on its back. It's the same one we were almost eaten by, spreading out throughout the country."

"Like an infestation?" Liz 10 demanded; I could see the queen thing, now. She had a very regal air to her. "Someone's helping it, feeding it, feeding _my_ subjects to it. Come on, gotta keep moving."

She took Mandy by the shoulder and led the young girl off, out of view. I made to follow but paused when I saw the Doctor staring morosely at the glass, feeling depressed just looking at him.

"Doctor?" I questioned, softly.

"Erin," he breathed out my name, causing me to blush. It sounded... _intimate_ when he put it like that. "We never should have come here."

"Why?"

The Doctor faced me with a frown marring his handsome features; there was nothing of that ' _it'll be all right_ ' air he had earlier. He was slowly figuring out the pieces to this complicated puzzle, I knew, and whatever it was – whatever answer was waiting for us at the end of this yellow brick road - wasn't something he wanted to see. Wanted _me_ to see.

Instead of answering my question, he took me by the hand and walked us down to the vator, where Mandy glanced at our joined hands and then wiggled her eyebrows. I shoved her shoulder but all she did was mouth ' _So your boyfriend_ ' at me.

The state apartments was where Liz 10 was taking us, even though I didn't really understand what a state apartment _was_ until the Doctor explained, via a whisper down my ear that wasn't really necessary, that it was where she lived.

Liz 10 told us about how she'd been investigating the creature for quite some time, years even, but it felt like her own people were working against her. It was difficult to imagine the Queen poking around the crooks and nannies of the UK; I imagined _my_ Queen doing that, and promptly broke out into wheezy chuckles that made me look deranged.

We hurried inside, eager to not see any more creepy Smilers, and Liz 10 threw a towel at me, which I was ridiculously happy to have. I patted off my hair and clothes, ridding myself of the puke, even though the smell _lingered_.

Mandy wrinkled her nose at me. "You stink."

"That's what happens when you get thrown up," I said.

We were led into another room, with a massive four posted bed I was seriously jealous of, but the most obvious thing to notice was the fifty or so glasses, all filled with water, resting on the floor.

"What's with them?" Asked the Doctor. He always asked the most obvious questions, though I didn't know if it was for his benefit ( _doubtful_ ) or my own ( _less doubtful_ ).

"To remind me every single day that my government is up to something, and it's my duty to discover what." She sounded so _Queen-like_ when she said that.

"So you're going undercover inside your own Kingdom?" I still couldn't help but laugh if I imagined Elizabeth the 2nd doing that.

"Secrets are being kept from me," Liz 10 explained, sitting down on the be an undoing her cape. "I don't have a _choice_. Ten years I've been at this, my entire reign, and you lot have achieved more in one afternoon."

The Doctor picked up a white porcelain mask from the bed, inspecting it in the dim lights. "How old were you when you came to the throne?"

"Forty," she answered. "Why?"

"What?" My head spun. "You're _fifty_? That's not possible."

"They slowed my body clock," Liz 10 told me, stretching back. It was impossible to believe; she didn't look that far past _thirty_. "Keeps me looking like the stamps."

"We still have stamps?" I asked, under my breath.

"You _always_ wear this in public?" The Doctor gestured to the mask.

"Undercover isn't easy when you're the Queen," she said. "The autographs, the _bunting_. Everyone on this ship knows my face."

The Doctor nodded at her words, considering them, and ran his fingertips over the smooth surfaces of the mask. "Air-balanced porcelain," he said to me. "Stays on by itself because it's perfectly sculpted to your face."

"So what?" Liz 10 didn't really seem that impressed by it.

"Oh, Liz," he did that thing again – where he looked and acted so much _older_. I knew it was just his real age shining through, but still. "So _everything_."

We all jumped up into the air when the door slid open and a group of men marched in. Fearing a bad situation could start to happen, I grabbed Mandy and hid her behind me.

"How _dare_ you come in here?" Liz 10 was pissed, rightfully so, and jumped off the bed to get in the face of the lead man – the same man who'd knocked me out. I felt an intense wave of hatred for him.

"Ma'am," he said, in a tone that would suggest either incredibly bored or an android. "You have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK. You will come with us now."

Liz 10 scoffed. "Why'd I do that?"

The man stared at her, judging her, and then his head- it- it _moved_ around, like a Smiler's would, and a Scowler face plate moved into position.

"How can that be possible?" I asked the Doctor. "How can they be Smilers?"

"They're half-Smiler, half-human." He made a 'hmm' noise at the back of his throat. "They're androids."

"I don't care," Liz 10 brought herself up to her full height, staring down at them with regal poise. "Whatever you creatures are, I am _still_ your queen. On whose authority is this done?"

"The highest authority, Ma'am," he answered.

"I _am_ the highest authority," she said.

"Yes, Ma'am. You must go now, Ma'am."

It wasn't a fight we could win, I knew, but we still shared uneasy glances.

"...where?"

"The Tower, Ma'am."

We were marched from the room, a Winder – or so Liz 10 called them - on all sides. Mandy hugged my side, uncaring of the puke, and I did my best to shield her from the terror around us. I was actually sandwiched between her and the Doctor, who had an arm around my shoulders, as Liz 10 led the way like the queen she _really_ was.

"Are we going to the Tower of London _again_?" I muttered to him, out of the side of my mouth.

"I guess we are," he said. He still looked sad but I'd... injected some happiness into him. Not much, though. "Hopefully this time ends the same."

"With us saving the day?"

The Doctor's mouth twitched. "With no unecessary deaths."

He moved ahead slightly, eyes focusing on Liz 10, and I frowned without really meaning to. Had Zero's death been necessary? We knew that the Atraxi would kill him, but the alternative would be letting the Earth burn.

I stumbled in my step as it registered in me; I'd let Zero go to his death. It was the right thing to do, I _knew_ that, but knowing something and understanding it were two different things.

Mandy's timid voice drifted up to me; "You okay?"

"Yeah," I shakily answered. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The Winders took us down corridor after corridor, down vator after vator, and we were so twisted about I didn't have a clue where we were on the ship. The only familiar thing I could spot was another grating panel, where the tentacles clanged against the metal.

The scream echoed in my mind once more.

"Where _are_ we?" Mandy asked, eyes wide with fear.

"The lowest point of Starship UK," the Doctor said, sounding kinder than he had done for ages. "The dungeon."

We were pushed into the room and down a set of stairs; this Tower was _nothing_ like the one back in my time. It had stone walls, tall computer stations all focused on the middle of the room. A man was stood there, the one I'd seen in the voting station.

"Ma'am," he greeted.

"Hawthorne," Liz 10 recognised him with a growl. "This is where you hid yourself away. You've got some explaining to do."

"Never mind that," said the Doctor, sounding outraged. "There's kids down here."

I stopped walking when he said that, Mandy stepped away from my side. I realised the truth of his words when my eyes focused on the other side of the room; there was a line of children, all wearing school uniforms, streaming out of the room.

"The hell?" I asked.

"Protestors and citizens of limited value are fed to the beast," Hawthorne said, as if it was very simple. "For some reason, it won't eat the children. _You_ were the first adults it's ever spared. You're very lucky."

The Doctor released a scathing laugh. "Oh, yeah, look at us. Torture chamber of the Tower of London, lucky, lucky, _lucky_. Except, not a torture chamber, is it?" He entered the centre of the room, staring down Hawthorne. "Except it is. Well, except it isn't. Depends on your angle."

I passed his side, wanting to know whatever _he_ was angry about, and I felt bile hit the back of my throat; there was a giant brain, visible through a metal podium, with a set of giant electrodes pointing down at it.

"What _is_ that?" I asked.

"Depends on the angle, like I said. It's _either_ the exposed pain centre of big fella's brain, being tortured relentlessly."

I let out a horrified gasp, hands covering my mouth. It was _all_ the same creature; the scream I'd heard was- it was being tortured and I'd _heard_ it.

"Or?"

" _Or_ it's the gas pedal, the accelerator. Starship UK's 'go faster' button."

"I-" Liz 1o froze. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" The Doctor didn't sound very sympathetic - he was growing angrier and angrier by the second. "Try to, go on. The spaceship that could never fly, no vibration on deck. This creature - this _poor_ , trapped, terrified creature. It's not infesting you, it's not invading you, it's what you have instead of an _engine_. And this is the place where you _hurt_ it, where you _torture_ it, day after day, just to keep it moving!"

His voice ended in a roar, so disgusted was he by the actions of Liz 10 and her people. He moved aside, to the sections of metal grates on the floor, brandishing the sonic like a weapon. "Tell you what, I'll give you a little treat. Normally, it's above the range of human hearing, but I've heard it since I landed. Erin heard it too - low telepathic senses, not too uncommon. _This_ is the sound none of you wanted to hear."

He sonic'd the tentacle and we _all_ heard it; the scream, louder and inhumance, terrified beyond its wits end. It brought tears to my eyes and down my cheeks, a sob bursting from my lips.

"Stop, _stop_ ," Liz 10 requested, wearily. "Who... who did this?"

"We act on instructions from the highest authority," repeated Hawthorne. He was kind of a dick.

"I _am_ the highest authority," snapped Liz 1o. "The creature will be released, _now_."

No one moved.

"I said; NOW! Is anyone even listening to me?"

"Liz." The Doctor's simple word caused her to spin to him, anger etched upon her features. "Your mask."

"What about _it_?"

He brought it up and I was honestly surprised; I didn't even realise he'd brought it with us. "Look at it," he offered. "It's _old_. At least two hundred years old, I'd say."

"It's an antique," Liz 10 said. "So?"

"Yeah, an antique made by craftsmen over two hundred years ago and perfectly sculpted to your face."

I froze, looking at the evidence laid out in front of me. What the Doctor had just pointed out, the impossible truth of it all. He was a genius but I felt kind of dumb for not figuring it out sooner.

"They slowed down your body clock, alright, but you're not _fifty_ ; nearer three hundred." The Doctor's tone was very gentle as he explained, knowing what a huge shock it would be to her. "And it's been a long old reign."

"Nah," Liz 10 said, shaking her head. "I've been on this throne ten years. _Ten_."

"Ten years," he agreed. "But it's the same ten years; over and over again, always leading you here.”

By the elbow, he led her over to a station with a large screen, in front of which were two buttons, one of which I recognised; _Forget_ and _Abdicate_. I gulped at the sight of it; the Doctor spoke the truth, as he always did, though I hated to see Liz's world break apart like this.

"What have you done?" Liz 10 asked, in a ghost of a whisper.

"Only what you have ordered," Hawthorne answered, immediately by her side. He was the very image of a loyal servant; even if his mistress had long forgotten the task she'd set. "We work for _you_ , Ma'am. The Winders, the Smilers, all of us."

The horror of that seemed to sink into all of us at the same time; Liz was responsible for the kidnappings, the protestors sent to their deaths, the constant torture of the creature. For three hundred years she'd been trying to stop it, never knowing she was the shadow figure behind it all.

As though the floor would fall out from beneath her at any moment, Liz sat down in the chair in front of the monitors. The second her hand touched the desk, the screen flickered to life and her own image appeared.

 _"If you are watching this - if_ _ **I**_ _am watching this - then I have found my way to the Tower of London. The creature you are looking at is called a 'Star Whale'_ -" An 3D hologram popped up on screen, showing a huge beast with multiple tentacles and light purple skin. It was something I expected to find in the deep reaches of Earth's oceans, not living in space. _"-Once, there were millions of them. They lived in the depths of space and, according to legend, guided the early space travellers through the asteroid belts. This one, as far as we are aware, is the_ _ **last**_ _of its kind."_ The Doctor's face twisted at the words; miniscule, but I knew him well enough by now to notice. Sympathy, perhaps. _"And what we have done to it breaks my heart. The Earth was burning, our sun had turned against us and every other nation fled to the skies. Our children screamed as the skies grew hotter... and then it came, like a miracle. The last of the Star Whales. We trapped it, built our ship around it, and we rode on its back to safety. If you wish to let our voyage continue, then you_ _ **must**_ _press the Forget button. Be again the heart of this nation, untainted. If not, press the... other button. Your reign will end, the Star Whale will be released, and our ship will disintergrate. I hope I keep the strength to make the right decision."_

"That's what all this is?" I asked, lurching back from the screen with a gaping jaw. "That's why I heard those screams? Why I hit Protest?"

"You should've forgotten," the Doctor said, morosely. "You should have just forgotten so we could leave. An impossible decision on our hands; humanity or the alien. A choice which you _knew_ I'd have to take."

I could hear blame in his voice, so I turned onto the defensive. "How is this _my_ fault? You were the one who wanted to investigate this!"

"Because you were in _danger_ ," retorted the Doctor. "You really think I could've left you behind?"

"I don't think I decide what you do," I said. "And don't take this out on me. You are _not_ the victim in this situation."

The Doctor gazed at me, eyes cold and clinical. For the first time since we'd met, I think I was looking at the side of him he didn't want me to see; the realistic side. He wasn't thinking of me as ' _Lovely Erin_ ', or that kind human who helped him, or even a friend. I was someone in his path.

An obstacle.

I wrenched my eyes away and refused to let him win. I don't think he'd want me around on the TARDIS after this - after so openly questioning him - but if he were a man that refused to see that, sometimes, his actions were _wrong_ , then he wasn't a man I wanted to associate with.

"Telepathic senses," he murmured. "You need to control them."

Had- had he _heard_ me?

I didn't have the opportunity to ask; the Doctor strode away from both of us and began buzzing the sonic at one of the large consoles dotting the room. Liz watched him go, tears streaming down her face.

"What are you doing?"

"The worst thing I'll ever do, which is saying something." He sighed, beginning to pull out massive silver cables and tie them to other things in the room. "I'm going to pass a massive electrical charge through the Star Whale's brain; it'll knock out all its higher functions, leave it... leave it a vegetable. The ship'll still fly, but the whale won't feel a thing."

"You're..." I let the reality of what he was intending to do wash over me. "You're going to make it brain dead."

"Look," the Doctor began with a sigh. "I have three options; one, I let the Star Whale continue in unendurable agony for _hundreds_ more years. Two, I kill everyone on this ship. Three, I murder a beautiful, innocent creature as _painlessly_ as I can. And then? Then I find a new name, 'cause I won't _be_ the Doctor anymore."

"There must be something we can do," posited Liz. "Some other way."

"Doctor," I urged, moving to his side. He refused to even _look_ at me, which hurt more than it should after our recent argument. "This - this isn't just murder, this is _genocide_. He's the last of his kind, just like-"

"Shut up."

His words stopped me dead. The Doctor met my eyes and I sort of wish he hadn't; the green orbs were swirling with anger and hatred. Directed at me. At himself.

"You don't get to talk to me - nobody human has _anything_ to say to me today!"

His words ended in a roar and I staggered backwards. He was like a vengeful god - even Mandy whimpered in fear. I left the Doctor behind, knowing that he was too stubborn - too _stupid_ \- to change his mind. We sat down on a bench together, Mandy wiping at her eyes with the red sleeve of her jumper as my thoughts wandered.

How long had we been on Starship UK? Two hours, maybe? It wasn't that long ago that I was on a train, barely able to sit still out of excitement, then racing across the streets of London because I just couldn't wait to start my _new life_ with the Doctor.

I was such a fool.

I jolted as a loud bang came from behind me; a metal door had opened, revealing the children from earlier. Mandy raced over, hugging a small boy with light hair.

"Timmy!" She cheered into his shoulder. "You're okay! You made it!"

"Mandy?" The boy recognised her with amazement. "What're _you_ doing down here?"

As Mandy began to recount her heroic tale, I turned around on my bench to fully watch; one of the Whale's tentacles had made its way through one of the round metal grates on the floor. It curved up high into the air, flailing around, before moving towards Mandy. My heart leapt up into my throat, ready to defend her, when the tentacle gently tapped her on the shoulder. Mandy looked a bit surprised but hesitantly reached a hand out, like I had done earlier in the tent.

In my mind, the screaming dimmed.

The little girl stroked the Whale, with the other children soon joining her. It was- calm. Peaceful, even. The Star Whale must be in agony, even now, but it'd still reached out to them, to comfort them.

 _"Our children screamed,"_ Liz had said. _"It came, like a miracle."_

 _"It won't eat the children,"_ Hawthorne hadn't expected that.

_"The children screamed, then it came. The last of its kind."_

_"It was a bad day. Mistakes were made."_

_"Helping more crying children?"_

_"It's why I do what I do."_

_"Last of its kind."_

_"Just me."_

"STOP!" The scream tore itself from my throat before I even knew what was happening. I was on my feet, adrenaline pumping, as the Doctor's shocked gaze met mine. "Doctor, _stop_. Whatever you're doing, stop it!"

I grabbed Liz by the hand, and in a move that was most certainly treason, dragged her over to the voting buttons.

"I'm gonna need a hand, Your Majesty."

"Erin!" The Doctor protested, making his way over. "No! No!"

Without waiting for him to catch up, I slammed Liz's hand down onto the ' _Abdicate_ ' button. The entire ship began to shake almost immediately; an earthquake that had started only a few feet below me. The Whale roared - both within my mind and the space itself - and I had to cling to the panel to keep myself upright.

Then it stopped.

"What the _hell_ did you just do?" The Doctor demanded, angrily. He strode over to my side and got right in my face, as if he thought that scare tactic would work.

"Nothing," I told him, unable to keep the smugness out of my voice. "Am I right?"

Hawthorne was stood a way away, looking rather rumpled. "We've increased speed," he said, sounding puzzled.

"Well, you stopped frying the pilot's brain - that's gotta help."

"The Whale hasn't left," Liz said, slowly. "Why?

I didn't lift my eyes from the Doctor's once as I spoke, quite okay with staying inside the little bubble he'd opened up around our two bodies. "The Whale arriving wasn't a miracle; it volunteered. No trapping or torture necessary, that was just us humans, as always. But it heard the children cry and it couldn't just stand by. See, the Star Whale is thousands of years old and it's the very, very last of its kind. It couldn't just sit and watch children cry."

The Doctor was still furious with me - clear enough from his expression - but I couldn't care about that right now. Liz looked devastated, Hawthorne looked as though he were about to throw up, and Mandy was still a bit dazed by everything that'd happened.

It'd be a long road to recovery for Starship UK, but they still had a home aboard the Star Whale's back.

*

The Doctor disappeared after an hour or so, not that I noticed for a while afterwards. I was busy, with saying goodbye to Mandy - who had taken a shine to me, after all - and Liz - who was so grateful she offered to have me knighted. I was intruiged by the offer, but felt there wasn't much use to it for me when it was over a thousand years in the future.

Hawthorne had given me the Doctor's location using his Winder spies; an observation deck up high near Chelsea. I took a high speed vator up there, Liz's mask in my hands. _A memento_ , she'd said.

The Doctor was stood in the centre of the room, staring out the large window pane, hands in his pockets. He seemed deep in thought, troubled by whatever he found there, but I knew that _he_ knew I was there.

Was it a Time Lord thing, or was I just really bad at masking my presence?

"Both," he answered, dryly.

The telepath thing- right. I quickly made my way over to him, offering the mask. "From Liz - nothing to hide behind now. No more secrets."

He didn't even glance at me. I followed his gaze outwards and let my breath be stolen; a million, billion starts tinkled at me, so close I could touch.

Like always, the mood was ruined.

"You could've killed everyone on this ship, Erin."

"You could've killed a Star Whale, _Doctor_."

The Doctor released a breath that seemed to make his entire body sag. "I know, I know, you saved it. Stopped me from committing _another_ genocide."

I wanted to ask about the 'another' thing, but knew there were better places and times; such as nowhere and never. "It's pretty cool, isn't it? The Star Whale, tortured and hurt for all those years, lonely and miserable. And it's the kindest thing on this ship - well. _Beneath_ this ship, anyway."

"You couldn't have known," the Doctor said. "It was a complete uncertainty - you heard the thing scream, not invite it out for scones and jam."

"I had some experience with things like the Star Whale," I teased. The Doctor's head tilted to the side; he _genuinely_ didn't realise. "Oh come on, you see it?"

"See what?"

I rotated my body so it was pressed closer to his, my voice going low and personal. "He was very old and very wise, and was the very, _very_ last of his kind, unable to ever just sit there and watch children cry. I've met his type before."

The Doctor stared at me, unfazed, for what was bordering onto a minute before he moved. I'd thought that perhaps he was going through a ridiculously stupid phase, then his arms wrapped around me and I was lifted up into the air in a twirling hug. Unlike last time, we weren't in a mouth and there wasn't a single speck of vomit in sight - though the stench remained on our clothes.

"Thank you," he murmured into my collar. "I needed you today."

"I needed you, too," I admitted. I wouldn't have survived today without his help; we both knew that.

His arms turned tighter for a moment, causing my breath to escape my body in a quick puff. Then he stepped away, hand on my cheek, and pressed an unfalteringly sweet kiss on my forehead.

"Mind you," I said, as a joke, as a distraction, as a warning. "If you ever talk to me like that _again_ , I'm leaving you for the giant space whale."

"It'd probably treat you better," the Doctor remarked. "C'mon. Let's go back to the TARDIS."

"Ugh, yes." I let him pull me along by my hand, skipping alongside him down to where he'd parked the TARDIS. "I need, like, six showers. And hand sanitizer. And mouthwash. And new _clothes_."

"The TARDIS will sort you out," he promised me. "She likes you."

I frowned at the thought. "She _does_?"

"Well," the Doctor looked at me and then away. " _I_ like you, so she should do. She'll sort out a room and everything, if you want."

"My own room?" He nodded. "My own, actual room on your actual spaceship?!"

"Yes," he laughed. "Most of my companions have their own room."

I giggled at thought. "This is so _cool_. You're so _cool_. This is all so _cool_."

"Just like the bow tie," the Doctor said, tapping at it as he did so.

"No," I told him, gently. "Really, just... no. No."

The Doctor sighed. "One day, that'll work."

It was when the distant blue of the TARDIS became a large box in front of us that I slowed down, letting the Doctor walk ahead. He had one hand on the door, ready to push it open, when I tugged on it for him to stop. He paused, glancing back at me.

"Aren't you saying goodbye?" I asked. "They'll wanna know where we went, right?"

"They'll wonder for the rest of their lives," he said. "They'll write songs about what happened here - plus a direct-to-TV movie where its all really bad CGI. But never mind them; we've got places to be."

"We've always got places to be, it's a time machine." He smiled at my joke, but I wasn't finished. "Doctor... have you- have you ever just... decided to _not_ do something? You try your best and run away, because you don't know what you'd do if you get there?"

"Once," the Doctor said. "You're looking at the result. I- I thought I could outrun my death but, in the end, it was for nothing. Why?"

I sighed. "My parents are divorcing."

"Ah," he nodded several times. "And that's...?"

"They -" I sighed, and thought of how to phrase my next sentence. "They're complicated, okay? I love my parents. I do. But they asked me to keep it a secret from Cooper and... I'm not sure if I can do that. It's why I let Danielle say goodbye _for_ me instead of doing it myself."

"They don't want your brother to know?" The Doctor asked, surprised. "Why not?"

"'Cause he's just a kid," I told him. "I mean, he's fifteen. Exams and school and just general _teenage_ stuff. They adopted Cooper when he was three, so we're sorta the only family he's ever known. They wanna keep his life as stable as possible."

"He'll figure it out, _especially_ if he's as smart as you are. If they don't tell him, it'll be worse." The Doctor rested on the side of the TARDIS, crossing his arms over. "Parents always do that."

He had insider knowledge on this, I knew without asking, so I took what he was saying as the truth. "Do what?"

"Protect their children from the harsh realities of life," he answered. "There are two main types of parents, with a rare third type in-between. The first over-shares; money troubles, health issues. From a young age, their child knows everything that goes on within their home, and often grows up worrying because of it. They stop being a _child_ because their parent refuses to let them be one. The second type worries too much. They wrap their child in a bubble, refusing to _ever_ let them know of the reality of life. The children grow up unconcerned with other things because everything's always been taken care of _for_ them."

"And the third?" Everything he'd said, I'd seen before. Either through experience or through friends and books.

The Doctor gave me a soft smile. "The third lets their child know of the outside world, but doesn't expose them to it. They teach about money and how to save it, which foods are good and which aren't. They _teach_ their children, but don't over-expose them or coddle them."

"Which were you?" I blurted out, before I could stop it. I'd been curious ever since he'd slipped up earlier, but I thought I could hide it. Apparently, my mouth betrayed me.

If he was upset by my question, the Doctor didn't let it show, to his credit. He stared off, unseeing, into the distance. He'd never looked older to me. "Which one do you _think_ I was?"

 _Was_. He had been a father, then. My heart had jumped up into my throat - I had a ridiculous amount of questions, none of which I could verbalise. Each one was akin to a dagger in his hearts. I licked my lips and noted his eyes following the movement.

The Doctor - I couldn't imagine him being a _bad_ father, because of how kind and gentle he was with Mandy. But that could be from being a bad father before his children had died; maybe now he was trying to make up for it.

"The third," I said, eventually. "You... you were the third. I think."

He gave me a half-smile, still not looking at me. As he considered my words, I considered the profile of his face. The Doctor looked _so_ very young - maybe pushing twenty-six, if I had to put an actual number to his physical body. I _could_ imagine him as a father at that age, but only with young babies. From the way he spoke, from his real age, I knew that his children were probably fully grown at the time of their death.

The Doctor clicked his fingers and the TARDIS doors swung open. "Where to?"

Ah, our conversation was over. "A shower," I answered. "I still stink."

"You do," he agreed, amusedly. "There's a... _stench_ in the air."

"Yeah, but you usually smell like that, so I wasn't gonna mention it." I skipped off into the TARDIS, hearing the outraged gasp that followed me.

Our time aboard Starship UK had changed us. For the better, I think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy and please review!


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the Rings of Akhaten we go...

"It occurs to me that you've only seen a few aliens," the Doctor began, from the opposite side of the cosy kitchen table we were both eating at.

"Zero, the Star Whale..." I shrugged. "Only two, why?"

He wagged a fish finger at me, causing custard to drip onto the table. "Three, actually."

"I don't think of you as an alien," wrinkling my nose at the thought, I shovelled more cornflakes into my mouth and spoke around the crunching, "I think of you..."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose up – it was hard to make out, what with them being almost  _invisible_  – and he gestured for me to go on,"You think of me…?"

"As a weirdo," I finished, laughing at the way his jaw dropped in offence.

"I am not  _weird_!"

"You're eating fish custard," I pointed at his food. "That's something no  _normal_  person would do."

With a huff, the Doctor carried on munching down on his fish finger. I was curious, however; something was clearly eating  _him_  up, judging from the twinkle in his eyes.

"C'mon," I nudged his leg with my foot. "You've got your 'thinking' face on."

"I haven't had this body long enough to develop different  _faces_ ," he replied.

"You've had it for almost three days." It was weird to think about it… Prisoner Zero, the Tower of London… it was  _days_  ago, even if it didn't actually feel nearly like that. Perhaps it was because, after returning from Starship UK, I'd showered and then crashed on a couch in a living room type area for over twelve hours, or so the Doctor said.

In all fairness, I needed the sleep.

"What do you want to see next?" the Doctor asked, leaning on his elbows to peer at me. "You mentioned the Library of Alexandria? You can pick wherever."

"You've got an idea," I accused, "Of somewhere we can go, haven't you?"

"You've seen a lot of humans," he said, "But not nearly as many aliens. And, if you're going to be with me for a while, aliens are something to get used to."

 _A while_. Sometimes, like when I was in the shower, I wondered if I was overstaying my welcome. If the Doctor had only invited me out of thanks for looking after him, then this was all temporary until he found some android who could compute PI.

"Don't sell yourself short," the Doctor flicked me on the nose. "Erin, you're brilliant."

I also really needed to figure out how to shield my thoughts from him.

"Aliens it is then," I'd finished my cereal, tipping the bowl back to drain the milk as well. "Where will we be going?"

"It's a surprise."

The Doctor didn't finish his fish custard, simply leaving the bowl there as he took my hand and led us back to the console room – the twisting corridors confused me more than I would admit, so I was glad he took the lead.

"Sit down," he instructed, manic nature coming to the surface more and more as he piloted the TARDIS to our next destination. The Doctor could have childlike enthusiasm sometimes, eager to see new cultures and races, but knew to temper it when aboard the TARDIS. It was something to be grateful for… if he were at 100%  _all_  the time, I'd go barmy.

I recognised when we landed now, because of the quiet vibrations of the glass floor, the echoing  _vworps_  dying down, and from the fact that it stopped being a chaotic room where it was very easy to go flying down the stairs.

"Now, first off," the Doctor helped me stand and then covered my eyes with his hands, turning me around so I was tight against his chest.

It was not an unpleasant experience.

He gave a quiet laugh down my ear, which meant he'd heard what I'd thought, and whispered, "It's a surprise. You can't  _see_  your surprises," as we shuffled forwards, "Steps now."

"Wouldn't have this been a better thing to do  _after_  I'd taken the steps?" I asked, knowing he'd been to excited for a proper thought of logic such as that one. "I'm not complaining-" he laughed again, the cheeky sod, "- but it's just going to be a bit difficult, isn't it?"

I expected two things to occur next; either the Doctor would let me walk down on my own and then re-cover my eyes,  _or_  he'd make us awkwardly walk down them together and hope that I wouldn't fall flat on my face. I didn't expect for him to quickly pick me up in a bridal style hold and  _carry_  me downstairs, dropping me back down with little ceremony before wrapping a hand over my eyes again.

That was the Doctor though, wasn't it? Always picking an unseen third option.

I trusted the Doctor as we made our way over to the door, confident that he wouldn't navigate us into a wall or something, and I felt him come very close  _indeed_  when he unlocked the door and opened it inwards. We were very snug at that moment in time, and he was doing it all on purpose because he was an  _arse_.

"I'm an arse who's showing you the universe," the Doctor murmured down my ear.

"I  _knew_  you were listening in!"

We stepped outside, onto something rocky, and I froze. There was no breeze, no sounds of nature, though I could feel a warmth all over my body – like I was stood in the sunlight in the middle of a heatwave.

"D'you feel the light on your eyelids?" He asked, moving me forwards inch by inch. " _That_  is the light of an alien sun. Ready?"

"No," I gave an honest answer, at least, "But when did that ever stop you?"

With a laugh, the Doctor lowered his hands and allowed me to see. At first, I had to blink as the light came flooding in; it took a few seconds for me to see properly and when I did, a gasp tore itself from my throat.

A giant red star shone in front of us, ten times as large as Sol was back home, and an asteroid belt circled around it, some larger than others. We were stood on a smaller asteroid, a way off from the others, with the beautiful vista laid out like a portrait.

"Welcome to the Rings of Akhaten," the Doctor said, at my side. He was watching me, instead of the view, and I knew it why; it was nothing new to him.

"Woah," I replied, before laughing, "That's stupid. A whole new alien system and I say ' _woah_ '."

"It is ' _woah_ '," the Doctor told me, "But there's more."

"More-?" I took a half-step forward, squinting at the asteroid field. "Is there something else I'm supposed to be seeing?"

"Wait," he checked his wristwatch, counting down with his fingers, "In five, four, three, two…  _one_."

On his cue, the asteroids moved as one and revealed a larger rock that wasn't moving. A huge – and I mean  _huge_  – golden pyramid stood there, glinting in the red sunlight. It was larger than what I believed to be possible, making the ones back on Earth seem tiny in comparison.

"It's beautiful," I said, "but I haven't a  _clue_  what it is."

"It's the Pyramid of the Rings of Akhaten," he informed me, making my head reel with how grand that name was. "It's a holy sight for the Sun Singers of Akhat."

I sighed. "I know you're intending this to be all very impressive but, honestly, I haven't a clue what any of that meant. Is Akhaten the star?"

"Clever Erin," the Doctor said. "Yes. Akhat is one of the planets of the system – there's seven of them, all sharing a common belief that… well, that life started here, on Akhat."

"What,  _all_  life?"

"In the known universe, yeah."

The scoff left me before I could stop it, causing the Doctor to look at me in surprise.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Life is too  _diverse_  for it all to start in one spot," I said. "I mean, sure,  _we_  look alike – but you've got two hearts and can change your face. All I can do is reach the tip of my nose with my tongue."

"Really?" he asked, curious. I demonstrated this ability for him, going cross-eyed in the attempt, and caused him to laugh, "A few million years of evolution, all for that. You do humanity proud."

"I know," I puffed out my chest. "I'm the best representative for us out in the stars."

An amused hum from the Doctor was followed by a quieter, "It's a nice story, and it's what they believe. No different from the religions from your planet."

"I don't believe in those either, but I see your point."

I was curled into his side, head resting on his shoulder, and it was nice. Simple, in a way my life hadn't been since he'd first fallen out of the sky. I was content with it, happy to just let this moment pass us by. Despite the confusing feelings he evoked, we were just two ( _platonic_ ) friends.

"We can get closer, if you'd like."

Jerking out of his grip, I stared up at him in shock. "What?"

"To the Rings of Akhaten," the Doctor said, nodding his head towards the asteroid belt. "There's a bazaar there, multi-species. You'll love it, I know."

"Yeah, sure, that sounds…" I thought about it a bit. An alien bazaar, orbiting an alien star, full of  _aliens_. "Well, it sounds… indescribable."

The Doctor's head tilted to the side, like a dog hearing a strange noise. "You okay? Your cheeks have gone all pink."

"You can hear my thoughts," I accused, "and you don't know why I'm blushing?"

"I can't just… it's not like tuning into a radio station!" He hands waved around as he explained it, almost hitting me in the face as he did so. "It's a very delicate thing, you know, and it's not my fault if you  _broadcast_  it out-!"

"Doctor, I don't even  _know_  how I'm a 'low-level' telepathic or whatever you called me."

He hesitated, going to place his hands on my shoulders before re-thinking it and letting them drop by his sides. "It's- they're- you're- it's complicated."

I raised an eyebrow in a silent ' _oh, really_ '.

"Time Lords are touch-telepaths," he awkwardly explained. "If I'm touching you, it's easy to…  _see_  something – but only if I search for it! Which I won't, obviously. Otherwise, it's- it's like you're  _beaming_  out the thoughts. Anyone can pick up on them, not just me. The Star Whale was a minor telepathic, too, that's why you heard the screams."

It made sense, I hated to admit. The touch-telepath thing was interesting; could they convey complex ideas and plans through a simple handshake?

 _Yes,_  the Doctor whispered. His lips didn't move and, when I glanced down, I noted that he'd crept across and taken my hand.

"How… how do I block it out?" I asked, wetting my lips. "I- I don't want you seeing every dumb thought that gets in my head."

"I'm terrible at teaching," he complained. "Especially with humans. It takes so much  _patience_!"

 _You're an idiot,_  I thought at him, glaring.

"I can give you some defences but you'll have to work on making them stronger," the Doctor said, suddenly stern. "A mental wall, sealing you off from everyone else. It'll hurt."

"I'll take it," I said, squaring my shoulders. "Go on, then."

The Doctor laughed. "I'm not doing it  _now_! It takes preparation and has to take place in a calming atmosphere. You also have to  _relax_  to let me inside your mind on such an intimate level."

My shoulders dropped. "So, when-?"

"Later," he confirmed. "After I've taken you to see the full splendour of the Rings of Akhaten."

I made him promise to teach me later – which he'd crossed  _both_  of his hearts in response to – before allowing him to whiz me off to the closer section of the asteroid belt. The heat here was much more potent, causing sweat to roll down my skin in small drops.

The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed deep into his element. "Oh, look, a Terraberserker of the Kodian Belt – you know, Erin, I haven't seen one of  _those_  in four bodies. Rare nowadays. And, over there! A Lugal-Irra-Kush, a Hooloovoo, Panbabylonians!"

"A ' _Hooloovoo_ '?" I repeated, sceptical. "That's an actual  _species_? From where?"

"The local system, mostly," he answered. "Oh, I've forgotten how much I like it here. We're visiting again! Is that- Qom VoTivig!"

Perhaps it was a name, or that specific alien was just  _really_  happy to have its species' name called out amongst the rabble, because they walked over to the Doctor and began this… sort of greeting dance, which involved shaking every appendage and ended in a rather enthusiastic pelvic thrust.

"Friend of yours?" I asked, curious.

"Never seen him before in my life," the Doctor replied.

We carried on through the crowd for a few more moments, tightly clasping hands so we wouldn't be washed away, when his previous words caught up to me. "Wait, you've been here before?"

The Doctor's eyes flickered back to me, "Once, ages ago. I brought my granddaughter here."

I was very conscious of his hand on mine – and the touch-telepathy thing – so I didn't allow myself to consider his words until he'd disappeared off into the tightly packed bodies, not even his bright tweed jacket remaining in sight.

Then I let myself breathe out, nice and slow. He'd all but confirmed being a father back on his home planet… was being a grandfather as well  _really_  so surprising?

Yes, I admitted. Yes, it was. At nine hundred and six, it wasn't  _impossible_  for his children to age and have their own kids, but it was just weird to consider. The Doctor looked my age. Perhaps if he had a different body, an older one, it wouldn't be so hard to believe.

I just… kept forgetting he was an alien. It was stupid of me, really.

When I found the Doctor again, in a little side street that wasn't as busy, he was busy sonicing a bowl of luminous blue balls.

"What're those?" I questioned, keeping a careful watch of his face.

"Exotic fruit," he said, without a flicker of doubt or hesitation. Maybe he hadn't heard me – could I be so lucky? "Non-toxic, non-hallucinogenic, should be perfectly fine for you to try."

I gave the 'fruit' a dubious look. "Doctor, it's  _glowing_."

"It's fruit from another galaxy," he replied, in that annoying tone of his. "How many times have you been given the offer to try that?"

"I haven't paid for them!"

"They're left out in the open for weary travellers who've made long pilgrimages to eat," the Doctor told me. "It's their  _purpose_."

He wanted me to eat it, I realised, maybe as part of a test. To see what kind of companion I'd be to him; one who was a stickler for the safe and normal, or one who ate weird blue alien fruit.

"Can't be that bad," I supposed. "You can get food poisoning anywhere in the universe."

"That's the spirit," he encouraged, picking up one of the fruits and moving it towards my mouth. I realised, a moment too late, that he intended to  _feed_  it to me.

"I can manage this part," I said, snatching it off of him, cheeks stained red. The Doctor muffled a laugh in the crook of his elbow and I knew – he'd only done it to embarrass me.

To cover up my humiliation – to think, I'd actually  _fallen_  for it! - I bit down fiercely into the fruit, almost choking as the juices immediately hit the back of my throat. The taste was, surprisingly, quite normal. It was similar to a raspberry, only mixed with alcohol and sprouts.

"You're an arse," I told him, "and this is disgusting."

The Doctor shrugged. "Alien cuisine isn't for everyone."

He took the fruit from me and munched down on it quite happily, which wasn't a shock. After seeing him eat fish custard, weird raspberry-alcohol-sprout fruit was probably a delicacy for him.

"So," we carried on walking, arms linked, "Why's everyone here?"

"Festival of Offerings," the Doctor said, around the fruit. "Takes place when the rings align, so it's only every few thousand years. It's a big thing, 'round here, like Pancake Tuesday."

"I like pancakes," I muttered, "But I don't usually celebrate eating them by organising a  _festival_."

We came to a stop when I met the gaze of another alien, one with lots… and  _lots…_  of teeth. It- they snarled at me, causing me to flinch back in shock. "What the-"

He barked next to me, high-pitched like my neighbour's Yorkie, and I stared up at him. "She was only saying hello."

"All I heard was barking," I said. "Say hello back, okay?"

The Doctor didn't do anything. "You- you didn't understand her?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't. Was I supposed to? She's an alien, Doctor."

"Yes, well-" He straightened out his bow-tie, gesturing with the half-eaten fruit towards the alien. "Erin, meet Dor'een. Dor'een, meet Erin."

I waved, feeling stupid. "She's an alien called  _Doreen_?"

"Loosely, yeah. She's a bit grumpy today but usually, she's a total sweetheart, aren't you?" He switched to baby-talk, voice going gushy, "Yes, you are! She wants to know if we fancy renting a moped."

"Oh, no, I've already ridden with you once, I'm not doing it again."

The Doctor let out an offended gasp. "It wasn't that bad!"

"You took us  _up_  a flight of stairs!" Doreen seemed very interested in our fighting and, eager to change the subject, I pointed out, "We don't have any money, so, there."

"Don't need money," the Doctor said. "Currency here's something of sentimental value – y'know, photograph, love letter, your first screwdriver, stuff like that. Psychometry; objects psychically imprinted with their history. More treasured by the owner, more value."

I couldn't – literally,  _couldn't_  – understand. "So, they give up their most treasured possessions for food and water? That's terrible."

"It's better than bits of paper," he defended.

"You're not the one paying," I pointed out. "Or  _are_  you?"

The Doctor considered my question, even going so far as to pull out his sonic and stare at it, pondering if he could part with it. Then he shoved it away again, saying, "Nah."

"Knew-"

I wasn't a maternal person, contrary to popular belief, but after Starship UK and Mandy, maybe I had an affinity for finding scared little girls. This thought was caused as I spotted a young girl wearing red robes race 'round the corner, chest heaving.

"Hey," I began, moving forwards. "You okay?"

She looked at me, eyes wide with fear, and carried on running. I made to move after her, already yanking onto the Doctor's arm for his attention, when two tall men arrived, wearing red robes similar to the girl's.

"Did you see her?" They asked the crowd, almost as panicked as the girl had been. "Did you see the Queen of Years?"

"Who-?" I looked up at the Doctor, not wanting to garner the men's attention. "Was that the little girl?"

"Yes," he answered. "Did you see which way she went?"

"Over here," I led the way, careful to make sure the men couldn't see us. "I think she ducked down into here."

"Queen of Years," the Doctor mused. "She must be scared."

I found the entrance to a little storeroom, where the door had been obviously shoved open, and entered to find it dark and more than a little bit damp. It was a nice reprieve from the relentless heat of outside, and I enjoyed the darkness. A flash of red from ahead made me speed up, catching sight of the little girl before long.

"Hey!" I called, "Are you lost?"

"Leave me alone!" she called back, "I'm not going!"

"Going where?" I asked quietly, to myself.

"Queen of Years," the Doctor said again, making me jump – I'd forgotten he was there.

"I  _still_  don't know-"

I turned the corner and found the girl sat on the dusty floor, head between her knees. She was shaking like a leaf, terrified beyond her wits end as I inched my way closer to her.

"Hey, hey," I soothed. "It's alright. Why are you in here?"

"I'm hiding," she said.

"Because of the ceremony, I'm guessing," the Doctor spoke up from behind me. "Nerves?"

The girl nodded her head, causing her hood to slip down and reveal right red hair. "I- I might get it wrong."

"Get  _what_  wrong?" I looked between the two, utterly confused. "An explanation would be nice, y'know."

"You don't know who I am?" the girl asked, finally looking up at me. "Why did you follow me, then?"

"You looked lost," I said, "And- well. I can't really sit by and watch children cry."

The Doctor nudged me with his elbow and whispered, close to my ear, "I think that's my line."

"I don't believe you," the little girl turned away again, "they sent you."

"Listen, sweetie, I haven't got the faintest clue of who you are," I sat down next to her, making sure she had space to herself, "I'm a tourist – only here because  _mister_  over there wanted to show off the sights. All I saw was a scared little girl who needed a hand to hold."

She glanced over, curiosity beating her refusal to let me help, and I waggled my fingers at her in invitation. "Really?"

"Erin never lies," the Doctor said, " _ever_. She's too nice."

"I said the tweed looked good, didn't I?"

Thankfully, the girl laughed. "You're both so… strange."

"Strange is good," I told her, "Strange is unique."

"Can you help me?" she asked, leaning forwards eagerly. "I- I need to hide. Please. Only for a bit."

I looked at the Doctor, wondering if I could just reach out and-  _TARDIS_.

He frowned at me in disagreement, then froze. I knew that face – he was sensing something I couldn't. Looking over our heads, the frown only deepened, before the Doctor said, in as quiet a voice he could manage, "Yes, we can."

"Really?" I was unable to stop myself from voicing my surprise. "Seriously, are you sure?"

The Doctor didn't answer; instead he took the girl's hand and pulled her to her feet, saying as he did, "Make sure to hold onto Erin as well, okay? Don't want you getting lost."

And so we fled the stockroom, haste speeding our steps for some unknown reason, and played a game with the little girl as we wove our way back through the crowd, hiding her from sight as we did so. Eventually, when we reached the abandoned side-alley where the TARDIS was parked, she perked up a bit and swung herself from our joined hands.

It was… weird. Nice.

But very, very, massively weird.

"What's this?" she asked, upon spotting the TARDIS.

"It's my ship," the Doctor said, "she travels through space and time."

"It's  _teeny_ ," replied the girl.

With a laugh, the Doctor stepped forwards and unlocked the doors – moving aside with a grand bow, he let the doors swing open slowly, giving a dramatic reveal of the TARDIS' larger interior.

She ran forwards, dragging me along with her, and stared in awe. "By Grandfather, it's amazing!"

"Go explore," I urged, dropping her hand. She ran off, finally acting her age, and I switched gears instantly. "What the hell happened back there?"

"Something was looking for her," he explained, hastily. "Something- something that shouldn't be around scared little girls."

I accepted his words, nodding along with him. It certainly gave a reason to why we'd left so quickly. After a pause, I noticed his eyes lingering on the girl; "You look sad."

"It's nothing," he said, brushing off my concern. "You should look after your new friend."

" _I_  should?"

"You've  _bonded_ ," the Doctor shrugged. "Just like with Mandy."

"Come off it," I scoffed, "you were holding her hand too, y'know. And  _you_  were the one who started that whole thing with Mandy, so don't even go there."

He sighed. "You can't let me have this one, can you?"

"I would if you were being  _honest_ ," I said.

I didn't wait for a response, bounding into the TARDIS with enthusiasm I didn't really feel. "Little girl?"

"It's Merry," she corrected. "My name, it's Merry."

"That's a pretty name," I sat on the glass steps and patted the spot next to me, waiting until she was sat down to begin, "So, what's wrong? Is someone trying to hurt you?"

"No," Merry shook her head. "It's like- like what  _he_  said," she jerked her head over to the Doctor. "I'm scared I'll mess up."

"Mess up what?" I asked, "Is it to do with the Festival of Offerings?"

"I'm Merry Gejlh," she boldly stated.

I shrugged. "Still not getting it."

"She's the Queen of Years," the Doctor spoke, making his way towards us. "If I know my Akhaten traditions, that means she's the vessel of their entire history."

Merry nodded in agreement, "I know every chronicle, every poem, every legend and every song."

"But..." I looked over her, head-to-toe. "You're, like,  _eight_. How do you remember all that?"

"It's hard," she admitted, "and that's what's scaring me. What if I forget it in front of everyone?"

The Doctor sat down on my other side, a few steady inches between us at all times, and said, "She has to sing in front of the entire crowd. Everyone you saw here, today, came to hear her."

"She's eight," I said, for a second time, "she's only a child."

"I know that, but these are their traditions. We have to respect them, even if we don't agree with them," the Doctor's words were quiet, meant for my ears only.

"It's not just the people," Merry told me, "I have to sing it to a  _god_. I'm scared."

"Everyone gets scared sometimes," I nudged my shoulder into hers, "Especially when they're little."

"Even you?" she asked.

I leaned back on my hands, considering the question. I'd been scared as a child, of course, but none of that was on the same scale as  _singing_  to a  _god_. Then again, maybe it didn't have to be.

"When I was younger, our world got attacked. There were planets in the sky and these…  _things_  killing us, Daleks is what we called them. It was six o'clock in the morning when it happened, I was asleep at a friend's house. Those Daleks… they rounded us up like animals, killed anyone who tried to escape."

Both Merry and the Doctor were focused on me intently, hanging onto my every word. For Merry, it was simply a cool – if scary – story, one that every child liked to hear. It was personal for the Doctor.

"What happened?" Merry begged to know.

"The mothership exploded and all the Daleks went with it. The planets in the sky disappeared and everything went back to normal. My dad found me and gave me a hug."

"Makes my fears seem silly," Merry said.

"No," I disagreed. "Every fear, everything you're scared of, none of those things are  _silly_. Y'know, bad hair days, a really horrible zit, issues of the heart. You're young,  _very_  young, and sometimes it feels like the world's out to get you. You're scared of loads of things when you're a kid."

Merry seemed to think over my words, and I took the moment to notice how…  _alien_  she was. There were lines of raised flesh across her face and arms, pupils white in colour. A completely different race, yet so similar to my own. Was this how the Doctor viewed me?

"I'm not scared of  _everything_ ," Merry explained, after a beat. "Just… what if I mess up? What if Grandfather's angry?"

"If he's a good grandfather, he'll only care that you tried your best," I said, "and you won't get it wrong."

Merry took my hand suddenly, with a fierce grip. "How'd you know?"

"'cause I do," I stood, helping her jump down the steps, "now, isn't it time for you to get back?"

I led Merry back to the bazaar, where the men where still looking her – they were relieved to find her again, placing a  _lei_  around her neck before leading her off. I watched them go, happy to know Merry was going to be okay.

The Doctor, stood at my side and eating another one of those blue fruits he'd pulled out of nowhere, said, "why do we always run into little girls?"

"Foreshadowing," I joked. "What're we doing now?"

"It's the main event," he said.

I considered asking him why he'd been so  _off_  before, when Merry was in the TARDIS, but it was inevitable that he'd side-step the inquiry with a tale about the time he saved the fifth Empress of Botilink from a rogue slipper.

Eventually, the Doctor brought us to an amphitheatre that faced the golden pyramid, on an asteroid only a few miles away. It was several stories tall, tiered seating full on every row, and the Doctor and I apologised every few seconds as we found seats on the front row.

He was polite enough to be British, I thought.

"How'd you get tickets for this?" I asked, noticing how all of the aliens held the same golden piece of paper, "it couldn't have been planned."

The Doctor studiously ignored me, focusing instead on a program he'd lifted from a basket on the way in, "oh, here it says they offer free food and drink! Nothing you could digest, but the thought counts."

"Doctor," saying his name sternly, I caused the centuries-old Time Lord to cast me a glance like a naughty schoolboy found writing naughty words on the bathroom stall, " _are_  we allowed to be here?"

"Oh, there's Merry!" he pointed a finger out to the centre of the amphitheatre, making me look over despite myself.

It  _was_  her; head held high, even as her hands shook slightly. As she stepped up onto the podium in front of everyone there was a second of hesitation, and Merry looked back – catching my eye almost by accident. I gave her a big thumbs-up and a nice smile, which made her grin back.

She began to sing and it was…  _magical_. A haunting, revering song, the words of which were lost to me. I simply enjoyed the grandness of it all, the sense of rarity inscribed in every word that left Merry's talented mouth.

"They're singing to the Mummy in the Temple," the Doctor told me, from his leaflet. "The 'Grandfather' that Merry mentioned earlier, also sometimes 'Old God'."

"What's she singing?" I asked, "it's beautiful."

"The Long Song," he answered, "a lullaby without end to  _feed_  the Old God. Keeps him asleep. It's lasted for millennia, chorister handing over to chorister, generation after generation after generation."

I noticed some of the crowd, offering goods and trinkets up to the star above us. Their belongings disappeared into sparkles, turning into nothing but dust.

"Are they offering their stuff? 'cause you said that the currency around here was stuff you cared about and they're… oh, I don't like this."

"They're giving the Old God gifts of value to feed him," the Doctor said, "there's lyrics in here, if you want to join in."

"I'm a terrible singer," I told him.

The Doctor shrugged and started singing along under his breath, surprising me with a natural talent for it.  _Of course_ , he could sing. Why not? He was basically perfect at everything else, why not this, too?

There was a rumble throughout the amphitheatre, echoing out from the Pyramid, and we all stopped singing. Merry's arms dropped from where she'd stretched them out, nervously waiting for something else to happen.

"Doctor, what's-"

A golden beam of energy hit Merry, lifting her up a few feet off the ground. I jumped out of my seat, wondering if that was meant to happen. The beam started to carry Merry across the chasm to the Pyramid and she called back to me, "help! Someone, help!"

No one lifted a finger, as though this was all perfectly normal even when it  _wasn't_ , and I turned to the Doctor, saying, "we need to do something!"

"We will, don't worry," the Doctor took my hand and led me from the amphitheatre, running back to the bazaar, which was now empty, "c'mon."

"We're going the wrong way," I said, tears prickling my eyes, "this is all my fault! I told her it was going to be okay! Doctor! I'm  _not_  walking away from this, rules be damned!"

He came to a stop, tugging our joined hands up so he could clasp them close to his chest, "Erin, listen to me, we're going to save Merry. You  _know_  that I wouldn't let that scared little girl be hurt."

"I do," I assured him, "really, I do, but… Doctor, this is  _my_  fault. I said she'd be fine! Why didn't you stop me?"

"Because..." the Doctor shrugged, "it was good advice. Advice I'd have given if you weren't there."

I snorted, "you're just trying to make me feel better."

He lifted up my hand and patted the back of my knuckles, then let them drop, "well, yes, but I can say the truth at the same time, can't I?"

We turned the next corner and I spotted Dor'een, who barked in recognition.

"I still don't understand her," I said.

He talked to Dor'een for a few moments, then looked at me sheepishly, "I need something valuable."

And by  _that_  he meant something 'precious' to me.

"You're almost a thousand years old," I said, "surely you've got something worth a million quid?"

"Nothing we won't need in that Pyramid," he answered.

I wasn't wearing much from home – only a necklace and a few bracelets, none of which were too important to me. I didn't think I had anything of  _sentimental_  value on me, other than- necklace.

Fumbling around my neck, I unhooked the silver chain and the ring that rested on it, "Doctor, can rings be accepted too?"

"Yes," he said, curiously peering at the ring, "what's that?"

"Um," it was awkward to explain, here of all places, but… "my engagement ring."

I ran my finger over the diamond and swallowed softly; it meant so much me... I didn't want to give it up… the thought of Merry made me hand it over to Dor'eeen, breathing deeply to control my emotions.

"Should that be enough?" I asked the Doctor.

"It should be more than enough," he replied.

Dor'een barked a few times, throwing in a grunt here and there, and then threw a key to the Doctor, who caught it with a flail of his hands.

"Parking's behind the shop," he explained, leading the way.

The 'moped' was a weird silvery-brown construct that looked like something out of Star Trek. The Doctor climbed aboard first and revved the motor, offering me a hand a moment later to take the seat behind him; I was forced to sit rather close, arms wrapped around his waist and my chest pushed into his back, as he hit the speed and we took to space with a rev of the engine.

I was too focused on Merry's distant form to be scared, even as we passed over the abyss between the bazaar asteroid and the Pyramid. The closer we got, the more Merry's body became defined, and the Doctor sped up to close the distance between us; she was so close our hands were only inches apart as I reached out, only inches away from pulling her to safety…

Then the beam flashed white, knocking me away as it zoomed Merry quickly into the Pyramid, door slamming shut behind her. We were going too fast, I realised, as we quickly approached the tall stone door.

"Brake!" I ordered, bracing myself against the Doctor's body, "brake, now! Brake!"

"I  _can't_!" he replied, "it's not responding!"

We hit the wall with a groan of metal, a sharp pain exploding across my temple as I bounced off the door and fell to the floor. I let out a low groan from the back of my throat, feeling blood trickle down the side of my face.

"Ow," I said, pitifully.

"Erin," came the Doctor's voice, from not too far away, "Erin! Are you okay?"

Everything spun before me and I had a hard time finding my ability to speak… everything felt…  _weird…_  my hands and feet tingled… the world blurry and out-of-focus… I was feeling kinda sleepy…

The Doctor's face popped into my line of vision, worry making his brow crease, "Erin! How many fingers am I holding up?"

"You aren't holding any fingers up, dumbass," I grouched, flicking his forehead as I sat up. Everything span for a moment and I had to grab onto him to ground myself.

The Doctor let out a noise from the back of his throat – it was the deepest thing I'd ever heard from him, coming straight out of his gut, "Erin."

"What's wrong?" I asked, leaning towards him, "your face is all red."

He gulped, eyes cast away from mine. "Hand."

I frowned and looked down, wondering why he'd – oh. Oh. Oh  _no_. I thought I'd grabbed his knee… but I hadn't. I'd reached higher than that, apparently, and my smooth hand was actually wrapped around the very top of his tight, tips of my fingers very close to-

"Sorry!" I blurted, going bright red, "didn't realise! Didn't, er, mean to, either!"

"It's fine," he reassured, "it happens. This one time with the Queen-"

"Which queen?" I asked, despite a million more pressing things. "You know loads of queens."

"Er, well, that's a good question, but I mean the Queen to which I was the husband and -" the Doctor paused, "you still haven't moved your hand."

I sent him a cocky grin, "you still haven't asked me to."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, smug and flirty. We didn't say anything else – that wasn't  _really_  the nature of our relationship – and he helped me stand up on unsteady legs. After that, he walked over to the Pyramid's door and scanned it with the sonic.

" _Oh_ , that's interesting; a frequency modulated acoustic lock. The key changed ten million, zillion, squillion times a second."

"'Squillion' isn't a word," I said, "and also, can you open it?"

"Technically, no. In reality, also no," he sent me a cheery smile, "still, let's give it a stab!"

He stepped forwards, scanning different parts of the door, eyebrows furrowed. I occasionally heard a word -  _'crumpet', 'unlikely', 'higher being', 'hormones', 'natural'_  - but he was otherwise silent, leaving me to my own musings.

"Why was she taken, though?" I eventually asked, after a few minutes passed with no change, "why'd no one do anything? They let her be taken."

"This is sacred ground," the Doctor explained, "the centre piece of their religion. They'd never step foot here."

"She's  _eight_ , Doctor," I said, "I don't care what religion you are, if it involves sacrificing a child it's just plain wrong."

"They think there's a slumbering god here, Erin," he said in reply, "would you risk awaking him?"

I met his gaze, "if it was the right thing to do, sure. Gods don't exist anyway, so the point is mute."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," the Doctor laughed under his breath, "I still remember meeting Satan."

"You did  _not_ -"

A scream came from inside, stopping the rest of my sentence, and I banged on the door to capture the attention of anyone inside, "Merry! Merry, we're coming! Doctor, what can we-"

"Oh,  _hello_ ," he purred from next to me, making the hairs on the back of my neck raise up, "the sonic's locked onto the acoustic tumblers."

"So?" I didn't see the relevance of it.

" _So_ , I get to do this;" he took a step back and activated the sonic. At the now familiar whirr, the door slowly began rising – I let out an excited gasp and slapped his arm.

"You're a bloody genius!"

The Doctor held the door open so I could duck under it, with surprising ease.

"Hello," he said, as I was in the awkward position of easing passage past his arms, "you're met us – Doctor and Erin, blah blah blah. I was supposed to be giving her a nice day out, y'know? Impress her a bit."

"The day's still young," I assured him, a bit stunned. He'd wanted to impress me?

I was reading into it, surely. Impressing your friends was a thing.

"Did I mention that the door is immensely heavy?" the Doctor added on, readjusting his grip, "really, quite extraordinarily heavy."

"Leave," hissed Merry. I raced forwards, finding her stood in front of a metal casket, inside which sat a mummy on a throne, "you'll wake him!"

I was torn between helping her or helping the Doctor – he'd been pushed to his knees, beads of sweat rolling down his face.

The Chorister was still singing, unbelievably.

"Merry, we need to go," I said.

"No," she took a step back, "go away!"

"Not without you," I promised, "the Doctor and I don't leave people in need."

"This is your fault!" Merry cried, "you said I wouldn't get it wrong and then I did! This happened because I got it wrong!"

"You didn't get it wrong, Merry," I said, moving closer, "you were perfect."

"You don't know anything, you said so yourself. You have to go now, or he'll eat us all!"

I glanced at the zombie, who was just sat there doing nothing interesting at all, and tried not to laugh in the face of her religion, "zombies don't usually eat meat, y'know. They're too dead to digest it."

Merry sighed, "Grandfather doesn't eat  _meat_. He eats  _souls_."

Then she pressed two fingers to her forehead and a sort of purple energy came at me like a bat out of hell, whipping me around and slamming me against the glass box. I tried to move but found I couldn't; I was stuck.

"Doctor," I called, "Doctor, she's-"

"If you leave, you'll be fine. If you don't, he'll eat you, too."

"Well," I tried to move again and the purple energy slammed me against the glass even harder, "I'd  _do_  that if I could move. Great idea there, kiddo."

"You don't want us to be eaten, do you?" the Doctor asked, barely able to keep the door up any longer, "you want Erin and I to walk out of this really quite astonishingly heavy door and… never return to this bloody asteroid belt again."

"Yes," Merry said.

"Erin's right," the Doctor muttered, "we don't leave people in need."

Quick as a flash, he darted forwards and rolled into the Pyramid, grabbing his screwdriver just before the door smashed it to smithereens. Straightening up, he met my incredulous gaze.

"Did you just lock us in?" I asked.

"Yeah," he nonchalantly said.

"With the soul-eating mummy?"

"Yeah."

Realising that it was futile to try and escape the purple energy, I sent the Doctor my most exasperated look, "and have you figured out a way for us to leave?"

"Not yet, no," he tried to stay positive, "but I will! Possibly. Probably. There's usually a way out!"

His enthusiasm was probably the best escape plan we had so far, given the fact that I couldn't even  _move_ , and instead I turned my attention to the still singing Chorister, "Doctor, he hasn't stopped."

"That's 'cause he's trying to sing the Old God back to sleep, only it's not gonna happen. Mate," the Doctor surprised with his use of that term – it was such a normal word for a non-normal man, "he's waking up, he's coming, ready or not. You want to run."

The Chorister stopped mid-word, eyes wide as he realised the truth of what the Doctor was saying. He stood, looking me in the eye, and said, "my name is Chorister Rezh Baphix, and the Long Song ended with me," before he disappeared in a flash.

The Doctor sighed, "that's it, then. Song's over-"

A roar came from behind me, making me screech in shock. The purple energy kept me still, even as I began to hear movement from inside the glass box.

"You've woken him," said Merry, fright making her go very quiet, "what've you done?"

"The mummy's up?" I tried to twist my head around to see, "what's it doing?"

"Oh I wouldn't worry," he assured me, "he's only have a nice stretch."

There was a bang on the glass, then another one, and it only took a single look at the Doctor's face to realise that the mummy was trying to break out, "Doctor!"

"We didn't wake him up, Erin," the Doctor said, earnestly, "and neither did you, Merry. He's up because it was his  _time_  to wake, to feed. On you, apparently, on your stories."

"What?" I frowned down at him, "okay, she said  _souls_ , not stories, and where'd you even get that idea from?"

"The people here trade in items of sentimental value, what's more sentimental than a story? That's all a soul is made from. Everything that ever happened to us, people we love, people we lost. People we never expected to meet at all. The Old God threatens to wake, they offer him a  _pure_  soul. The Queen of Years."

"You're scaring her," I told him, eyes fixed on Merry. She'd gone even paler than usual, which was saying something for her.

"Good, she should be scared."

"Doctor," I said, appalled, "she's- no!"

He crouched down in front of Merry, tone soft despite the words leaving his mouth, "she's sacrificing herself, Erin, she should know what that entails. Do you know what that entails, Merry?"

"A god chose me," she said, gulping heavily.

"It isn't a god, Merry," the Doctor explained, in the same gentle tone he'd used with Mandy, "it feeds on your soul, but that doesn't make it a god. It's a  _vampire_ , and you don't need to give yourself to it."

Merry bit down on her lip, dropping down onto the bottom step. Sending me a glance, the Doctor sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her narrow shoulders.

"Mind if I tell you a story?" he asked, then continued on without waiting for an answer, "you probably haven't heard it before. All the elements in your body were forged many,  _many_  millions of years ago, in the heart of a far away star that exploded and died. That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of deep space. After many millions of years, these elements came together to form new stars and new planets. On, and on, it went, with the elements coming together and bursting apart, forming shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings. Until eventually, they came together to make  _you_ ," the Doctor bopped her on the nose, "you are unique in the universe. There is only one Merry Gejelh, and there will never be another. Getting rid of that existence isn't a sacrifice… it's a  _waste_."

After his speech, there was silence. I stared at the back of his head, feeling something new flutter to life in my chest. I couldn't put a name to it, though I was certain that it was accompanied by  _pride_. He was a good man.

"But..." Merry began, haltingly, "if I  _don't_ , then everyone else-"

"-will be fine," the Doctor finished off.

"How?" Merry's voice held hope, and I was overjoyed to hear it.

"There's always a way," I told her, "the Doctor will make sure."

The Doctor stood, keeping his face solemn, as Merry's eyes flickered between us – she was on the cusp of agreeing with us, I knew.

"Promise?" she sounded so young, yet had been ready to let herself die. How could people have let his happen?

"Cross my hearts," the Doctor said, index fingers flicking over both sides of his chest.

I let myself smile at the sight.

A splintering sound reached my ears shortly before I felt the glass crack behind me, growing louder and louder, and then the mummy's hand shot through, mere inches away.

Merry screamed along with me and the energy glowed an even more vibrant colour of purple before releasing me. I'd been pushing all my body forwards, trying to escape, so when I wasn't held back any longer I went flying down the steps – the Doctor had to catch me before I fell right on my face.

"' _Nice stretch_ '," I repeated, mockingly.

"Well, he was earl-"

A rumble reached our feet, echoing throughout the asteroid, and I felt quite confident saying, "something's coming."

"It's the Vigil," Merry said, backing up to us, "when Queen of Years is unwilling to be feasted upon, it's their job to feed her to Grandfather."

"Wait," I left the Doctor's arms and turned Merry to look at her properly, "you  _knew_  that Grandfather would eat you?"

"No," she shook her head, "but in the books they say the Vigil will make us sing even if we don't want to… and if singing leads to being eaten, then..."

Three pillars of black smoke rose up, leaving behind robotic figures. They wore dark cloaks that trailed across the floor, each menacing step bringing them closer to Merry.

"They're the ones who came earlier," the Doctor said, "in the warehouse."

I stared at him in shock, "and you didn't think to say anything?"

"I'm sorry," Merry told the Vigil, "I'm sorry!"

One of them reached a hand out, aiming for Merry, and I yanked her away, snarling as I did so, "don't you  _dare._ "

"Stay back," the Doctor warned, brandishing the sonic, "I'm armed! With a screwdriver!"

The Vigil closest to us raised an arm, closing its fist as a blast knocked us both back – we hit the walls with groans, and everything went blurry again. It was worse than when the moped crashed, nausea rising up in my stomach. Through my dizzy vision, I saw the Vigil leading Merry off into the distance.

"Doctor," I moaned.

"Erin," he replied, looking far better than I did, "sonic."

I frowned at him, or where I thought he  _should_  be, and cast my hands about until I felt the cool metal of the sonic. Throwing it over, I lay back down on the stone floor, letting out a sigh. I was in too much pain to notice what was going on around me; I'm pretty sure getting thrown against a wall twice in under ten minutes wasn't a good thing.

"Erin," came the Doctor's voice a few moments later, from far away, "Erin, you need to stand up."

I grasped at the wall, dimly recognising Merry helping me stand, "what'd you do?"

"He set up a shield," Merry explained, "he's very good."

"He is, yeah," I took Merry firmly by the shoulders, "okay, we need to get out of here. You know all the stories, right? Is there a secret entrance? I've seen Indiana Jones, there are  _always_  secret entrances to temples."

"There's a secret song," Merry said, after a few seconds of thinking, "the Thief of the Temple and the Nimmer's Door."

I let out a breath of relief, "okay, d'you know the secret song?"

Merry's mouth opened and she released a series of high-pitched notes, each one melodic and beautiful, causing a door to slide open… just behind the mummy and the Vigil. I finally noticed what the Doctor was doing; he held the sonic up, beaming out a silver shield keeping the Vigil back.

"Great..." I muttered.

"Go!" the Doctor yelled, waving us forward, "I'll cover you!"

I grabbed Merry's hand and legged it, ducking under the Doctor's outstretched arm and past the Vigil – who reached out to us before being repelled by the Doctor. The secret exit left us outside the Pyramid, back under the burning sun, and I refused to move any further without the Doctor. I looked back to see if he was following, just in time to watch as the sonic shield faded.

"Doctor!" I yelled, ready to go back for him. I heard glass shatter from further inside and, moments later, a yellow beam fired at the sun. The Vigil disappeared and the Doctor, taking the opportunity as it was handed to him, began running to our side.

" _Where are you?"_  I heard a voice whisper, unsure if it was inside my own mind or not,  _"where are you?"_

"Oh god," I embraced the Doctor as he reached us, quickly wrapping my arms around him before stepping back, "what  _was_  that? I wasn't the only one who heard it, was I?"

"No, no, you weren't," the Doctor moved his gaze to the sun then back to me, "the Vigil disappeared because Grandfather's woken up."

"You sound like someone kicked your puppy," I said, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing  _wrong_ , per say… more of a tactical boo-boo," the Doctor shrugged, grinning slightly, "more of a semantics mix-up, if anything. How was I to know?"

I punched his shoulder, hard, and he rubbed at it, "explain."

"We thought that the Old God was Grandfather, but it was just Grandfather's… alarm clock."

"Grandfather is  _real_?"

"Yes," he said, looking past me, "he's very… very real. And big."

I followed his gaze up to the sun; it'd…  _changed_ , if that possible. Somehow angry, solar flares lashing out from its surface, and if I tilted my head a bit, it almost looked like a face was emerging on the… oh no.

"You've got to be kidding," I said, faintly, "what can we do?"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair once, then again, then tugged at it with both hands and said, with desperation in his voice, "against that? I don't know, d'you? Do you know? I don't. Any ideas?"

"You promised!" Merry cried, "he'll eat us all, he'll spread across the system, consuming the Seven Worlds, and then when there's no more to eat, he'll embark on a new odyssey amongst the stars, and you promised you'd stop him!"

"I know it's the right thing to do," I said, wondering if I should just keep quiet, "but stars expanding is sort of natural. They all do it, don't they? Should we stop it?"

"That isn't a star, Erin," the Doctor told me, "maybe, at one point, it  _was_. Then something else moved in and took it over."

"Doctor, it can't be a living thing," I gestured to the giant star, "those things don't  _live_. They burn and burn and then, eventually, they burn themselves into a supernova. They don't breathe, they aren't alive."

"The universe is infinite and complex," the Doctor replied, staring at me with a new look in his eye, "you've seen whales that live in space, men who can change their faces, a box that can travel in time. Where's the science that says that a living sun is impossible?"

He was right, I was forced to admit. I hung my head and breathed out through my nose; Earth was so primitive, I could hardly expect the entire  _universe_  to comply to our laws, the laws which changed with every new discovery.

"Besides," the Doctor continued on, "that's not a star. It's a brown dwarf."

My head shot up, frowning at him, "aren't brown dwarves just… stars that didn't make it?"

The Doctor opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "… yes."

"It- there's  _seven_  planets," Merry protested, "not eight!"

"Merry, Erin," the Doctor gestured towards Akhaten, "that thing is a gas giant, and we're on its asteroid belt. Stars don't  _have_  asteroid belts, and they certainly aren't that small."

"Small?" I repeated, incredulous, "it's a bloody  _giant_."

"I've seen bigger," the Doctor said, straightening his bow tie.

"Really?"

He rounded on me, "are you  _joking_?! That thing is massive!"

"So what do we do? Send Merry back on the moped and… come up with a plan?"

"Actually..." the Doctor fidgeted in the way that meant I wasn't going to like what he said next, "you're not staying."

I raised an eyebrow, "yes, I am."

"Nope," the Doctor said, shaking his head rapidly, "you're leaving."

"Um, no, I'm not, no," I placed my hands on my hips, frowning up at him, "you've never sent me away before."

"You never said you had a fiancé before," he retorted.

I laughed, unable to believe that he actually sounded  _jealous_ , "have you told me all about  _your_  dead loved ones? I didn't think so."

The Doctor froze, staring at me with unblinking eyes. I stared back, unwilling to let him win.

"Sorry," said Merry from next to me, as heartfelt as a child could manage, "Grandfather's getting angrier."

The Doctor and I broke from our contest to look up at Akhaten – that planet wouldn't wait. Not for this. Time running out on me, once again.

"I'll go," I told him, "but if anything happens to you, I'll kill you."

"I don't doubt it," the Doctor replied, "you take the moped."

"I wasn't really planning on walking to the next asteroid, Doctor."

I took Merry's hand and left without another word, not really wanting to carry on… whatever  _that_  was. What business was it of his who I used to be with? He'd barely said a  _thing_  about his own past, other than he was the last of his kind and used to be a family man, and yet he was upset that I hadn't shared everything in my own past immediately and with no hesitation?

I was worried that the moped might be damaged from the crash, but there were only a few scratches on the metal, luckily.

"Not getting the deposit back, then," I joked to Merry.

She was too focused on the sun to laugh.

The ride back was silent and fraught with tension and we landed back on the bazaar asteroid with little fanfare, Merry leading us back to the amphitheatre with a bowed head. The crowds there began whispering when they saw that she was still alive, though the activity of Akhaten put a downer on things.

"I'm scared," said Merry, "d'you think the Doctor is frightened, too?"

"I'm sure he's terrified," I told her, "but that makes him all the more braver."

There was a beat, then, "I'm sorry about your fiancé."

"It's okay," I said, gentle, "it was a long time ago."

"I thought the Doctor was your boyfriend," Merry said, with a small smile.

I opened my mouth to reply, then stopped. His reaction, the 'imagined' flirting… 'pretty' Erin…

"I think he did, too," I said, with realisation. Or he at least thought we were  _something…_

"I want to help," Merry said, decisively. She got onto the pedestal and took a deep breath before carrying on her song. The crowd joined in, fear making their voices stronger.

I watched her, thinking – it explained a lot, over the past few days, plus the ' _trying to impress_ ' me comment. You don't impress your platonic friends, but you  _do_  if they aren't platonic. Was… was this a date?

"This is totally a date," I hated how dumb I was, "how the hell didn't I know that this was a date?"

 _I want to help_ , Merry had said. I wanted to help, too, but how?

Akhaten  _howled_  and I knew why; the Doctor was doing something, feeding him or fighting him, and I was stuck here, with a bunch of singing people.

Lewis had hated singing. Never went to concerts unless I made him. He proposed to me on the banks of the Thames, on a boiling hot summers' night, after I'd begged him for a month to come watch some indie band play at the local pub. I'd cried and some passer-by had recorded it and uploaded it to YouTube.

He was dead a month later, with broken promises and broken bones.

I'd never told him, never told anyone, but I'd always  _hated_  that ring. It was a size too big and the diamond looked tacky. I considered Akhaten, the sheer size and beauty of such a monstrous thing, and thought that the ring could be used for something, after all.

I left the amphitheatre and made a beeline for Dor'een, who'd taken shelter at the back of her shop. The bazaar was deserted and with each step I took the asteroid vibrated beneath my feet.

"What do you want?" she demanded, upon seeing me.

"I can understand you!" I cheered, "also, I need my ring back."

Dor'een's eyes narrowed at me, "why?"

"To stop Grandfather from eating us all," I told her, and seconds later the ring was thrown back to me.

"May the fish speed your way," Dor'een said.

I frowned, but accepted the wish and returned to where I'd parked the moped. I'd adopted an intense focus, the likes I'd never seen, as I rode over to the Pyramid and parked without crashing at the back, far closer to Akhaten than I'd like to be. I could hear yelling in the distance, probably the Doctor, and I investigated.

"- a universe based on a  _paradox_! Twisted until nothing remained! I'll tell you of… the Last Centurion and… the Girl who..." the Doctor was on his knees in the centre of a courtyard built facing Akhaten, who was smirking down at us with a sinister look in its burning eyes. The Doctor noticed me stood there and waved me away, "Erin, go!"

"You can't feed Akhaten, Doctor," I said, stalking forwads, "he's too hungry. Not even you have enough memories for that."

"You'd be surprised," the Doctor muttered. He was unable to stand, which showed how weak giving up his memories had made him, "Erin, what are you-"

I held up the ring, letting the light glint off the rock and cascade into a million new colours.

"I was given this ring on the 11th of August, 2013. That's a few thousand years ago, I think. It was only three years ago for me. I was only twenty-one, but I thought I'd met the 'one' so, I figured… why say no?"

I'd caught Akhaten's attention now; the… face-thing had formed a smile. It was really unnerving, though that didn't stop me.

"I'm pretty sure I was the love of his life, but I wasn't- I didn't feel the same. He's dead, now, and I kept the ring to signify a promise I'd made to myself; to remember the future we  _could_  have had. Futures, really. I could've said no, and saved his life. I could've said yes, and saved his life. I could've given him the same devotion he gave me."

The planet reached out with golden tendrils, wrapping around the ring and lifting it up from my grasp. I watched it go with tears in my eyes; perhaps it  _was_  time to move on, after all.

"That ring holds an entire future that never got lived. It holds more than just one future. Lives that could've been lived. Children that could've been born. A whole existence, a whole reality, all represented in that ring."

With a groan, the Doctor pulled my attention back to him, "Erin, you just gave him an eternity."

"So?" I asked, staring at him.

"Eternity is  _too_  much," he explained, "Akhaten feeds off memories that have  _already_  passed. You just gave him an endless source of memories that could've happened."

I helped him stand up, noting the tear tracks on his face. He looked vulnerable, "so, I saved the day?"

"Again," the Doctor smiled at me, all soft edges, and I couldn't stop myself from hugging him tightly, "thank you."

"For what?" I whispered into his shoulder.

"Akhaten was going to eat my entire being," the Doctor said, "that's what I was giving up. Almost a thousand years of memories. It would've consumed everything I am."

I stilled in his arms.

"You would've died," I gasped, "you were- that's why you sent me away!"

The Doctor's only response was to hug me tighter, face pressed against my hair.

I would've been angry, but… well. I didn't have it in me; I was  _exhausted_. I needed a rest. I needed a break. I needed…

Home.

Saying goodbye to Merry was an emotional experience – mostly because she kept crying and thanking us – and by the time we got back to the TARDIS, leis wrapped around our neck and a promise that we'd always be welcome there, I was ready to relax.

The Doctor had other plans.

"Where to next?" he asked, already flying us away from the Rings of Akhaten, "the Lost Moon of Poosh? Y'know, I was the one who found it again?"

"I want to go home," I told him, looking at his back.

He seized up for a moment, sighing deeply, then admitted in a quiet voice, "I was expecting that."

"I want to go home," I repeated, slowly walking to him side across the glass floor, "so I can tell Cooper our parents are divorcing, pack a bag, say goodbye  _properly_ , then visit the… Found Moon of Poosh."

The Doctor's head lifted up and he met my gaze with hesitant hopefulness, "a quick visit home?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "you can have a look at my childhood room, laugh at all the ugly photos of me that my mum keeps around."

"I'm not sure you've  _ever_  been ugly," the Doctor said, "but there's something else we have to do first."

I knew what he was talking about, "the mind-thingy?"

He laughed, quietly, "yeah, the mind-thingy. Can't have you telling everyone how bored you are by accident."

"When do we do it?" I blushed at the question – it sounded… wrong, "I mean, when do you put that mental wall up?"

"Sit down," the Doctor gestured to the floor, sitting down himself, cross-legged.

I sat opposite him, nervously smoothing down my hair, "now what?"

"Close your eyes," he instructed, waiting until I complied before continuing, "take in a deep breath and release it… again… again..."

The Doctor waited until I was peaceful, relaxed, almost a bit sleepy, before pressing his forehead against mine. The feeling of his skin against mine was unusual but not unpleasant. That's when I started to feel it; like someone had cracked an egg against my head and had let the yolk trickle down inside my skull.

"Imagine a door," he whispered, so close his breath ghosted across my lips, "tall and strong. Then imagine locking it; the key is in your hand. Only you can use it."

It was oak and a dark brown, identical to the front door to my first house – we'd moved out when I was seven, but I always felt safe there. The key was as large as my palm and a solid gold colour, heavy and smooth.

"Now, picture a wall surrounding that door. As far as the eye can see. It blocks out everything… build it up, brick by brick. Make it wide, firm. Make sure no one can break past it."

I did as I was told, this taking longer than the door had. It hurt my head – I let out a pained whimper and the Doctor moved closer, our noses brushing. A sort of…  _yellow_  feeling passed throughout me, soothing the ache I felt. It took me a moment to realise it was him. After he was gone, the wall had been finished and the door looked imposing. I wouldn't want to try and break it.

"Done," he said, softly. I almost didn't hear him.

Opening my eyes, I saw that the Doctor was mere centimetres away; his eyes were green, but they were currently close enough for me to pick out each individual colour and how they all blended together. There was a pause where neither of us moved, frozen in place, before I coughed and the moment was broken.

"Right," the Doctor stood, blinking rapidly as if he'd been as entranced as I was, "home, for you. Parents' house, yeah?"

"D'you need the address?" I asked.

"Nah, the TARDIS will know. I can just trace your timeline back..." he began piloting at the console, sending me a concerned look when he noticed I hadn't moved, "you okay?"

"Yup," I told him, with false cheer, "just wondering if that…  _wall_  thing works."

"Try it," he suggested, looking away again.

 _I think you like me more than a friend,_  I thought focusing directly on the back of his head,  _and I'm afraid I might like you more than one as well._

The Doctor didn't move an inch.

"Did you get it?" I questioned, curious despite myself.

"No," he grinned at me as I reached his side, "not a thing."

I was disappointed, against all reasoning, "that's… good. Great, even."

We landed with a large  _vworp_  and the Doctor gestured towards the doors, "home again."

"Looking forward to seeing where I grew up?"

"Incredibly so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Reading your thoughts on the story really cheered me up! I'm really glad that Erin as a character is coming off well; I've put a lot of work into her, and I'm so pleased that you all love her as much as I do. And to a certain reviewer who asked if the American man who taught Erin how to lockpick was Captain Jack; I'm afraid their identity won't be revealed for quite some time. Seriously though, reading reviews (especially detailed ones) really lift my spirits and encourage me to carry on. Much love! Also, thanks to my beta-reader! Brooke, you're a star.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in present day London, Erin and the Doctor investigate the Wi-Fi and grow in size.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_25/11/2016_

Trepidation filled me as I exited the TARDIS and stepped out onto the lush green frown lawn of my parent's house. It was an old building, passed down through my father's family since before WW1, and I'd lived there – in my tiny attic room – from my seventh year until I moved out at nineteen.

"It's nice," observed the Doctor.

"It's home," I replied.

I let us in through the front door, quickly hearing the TV blaring in the living room. Speeding up, I left the entrance hallway and made the short journey to find Cooper, my baby brother, slouched across the sofa, shovelling popcorn into his mouth by the handful.

It was such an overwhelmingly normal sight I almost burst out into tears, though I held in long enough to ambush with an attack-hug.

"Jesus H. Christ," Cooper swore, when my arms wrapped around his neck tightly, "Erin? Where the bloody hell did  _you_  come from?"

"Surprise visit," I told him, because ' _an asteroid orbiting a parasitic brown dwarf_ ' wouldn't have been an easy answer, "where're mum and dad?"

"Work," he said, as if saying ' _where else?_ '. In all honesty, it was a stupid question for me to ask. "Hey, you're strangling me!"

I squeezed him even harder for ten seconds then let go, covertly wiping my eyes before he turned around, "sorry, Coop, I just… missed you."

"It's been three days," Cooper said, before his eyes slid behind me, "oh. Is  _that_  your boyfriend?"

I didn't have to look to know the Doctor had slowly entered the room after me, so used to people assuming our relationship was romantic in nature. I couldn't blame them, either, because even I was uncertain if it was platonic or not.

"This is the Doctor," I introduced, halfheartedly, "he's my friend."

"Danielle said you were running off with him," Cooper smartly informed us, "you don't run-off with platonic buddies. You run-off with  _boyfriends_  and  _creepy serial-killers_."

"Thelma and Louise ran off together," began the Doctor, making me look at him incredulous astonishment, "and they were platonic."

"They were  _girlfriends_!" I hissed.

The Doctor shrugged, "I never watched the whole film."

"What are you even doing here?" Cooper asked, "I'm pretty sure running away means going in the  _opposite_  direction."

"Can't run away without my passport," I said, "and I want to..."  _tell the truth._  "Say goodbye."

"Mum's pulling an all-nighter 'cause of some freak accident and Dad's half-way through a case chasing down a smuggling ring," the frank, open way that Cooper spoke made me realise how utterly fine he was with our parents being home. That  _wasn't_  right, surely. "So, I'm all you're getting."

"That's fine," I smoothed down my shirt, "is my stuff where I left it? Mum said she was gonna put it in storage soon."

Cooper waved a hand, his attention already being brought back to the TV and the reruns of Top Gear being played on it, "dunno. Don't think so. Internet's been playing up so they've mostly been trying to fix that."

I groaned under my breath; the attic always had the  _worst_  internet. Add in more issues… just great.

Hugging Cooper once more – which he batted off like I was an annoying fly -, I left the living room and began making the journey up to my room. The Doctor followed, running his hands and eyes over everything. He seemed particularly interested in the photos showing; my fifth birthday party, meeting Coop for the first time, learning how to play the piano, and, on the desk in my room, the photo Lewis and I had taken shortly after he proposed.

My ring glinted in that photo, holding a future that would never happen. The absence of its weight around my neck was unusual and I kept going to fiddle with its phantom cord.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, "I… I didn't mean for you to lose your ring forever."

"It was time for me to move on," I assured him, "and… Lewis would've wanted me to put it to use. He was training to be a doctor, so using it to save lives was much better than letting it gather dust."

Honestly, I could go on without it. I didn't  _need_  a physical reminder to remember my loss; it was an eternal scar on my soul that I could never ignore or forget. In the future that I now had, one where I would never see Lewis' face again, run my fingers through his hair, or feel his lips on mine, I could never bring myself to erase his memory from my mind.

"You didn't tell Cooper about your parents," the Doctor mentioned, changing the conversation almost as abruptly as he'd started it.

"Well,  _no_ , 'cause it would've been a bit rude. ' _Oh, hi, Cooper, our parents are divorcing_ '," I flopped down onto my bed with a dramatic sigh, hair fanning out beneath me, "I need to work it into conversation. Make it natural. Maybe I could cook dinner."

The Doctor lay down next to me, long legs hanging off the side, taking my hand as he did so. It was a sweet moment, until he opened his mouth; "' _oh, isn't the steak nice? And our parents are divorcing_ '? How's that better?"

"Well,  _I_  don't know," I confessed, "but I have to make it easy for him. God knows they didn't make it easy for me."

"How'd they tell you?" he asked, moving his head to look at me. Our faces were so close that our noses began to brush; it was… intimate. Nice. Not helping to disprove the fact that he might be falling for me.

Was I falling for him?

"My mum texted me," I said, dryly.

"Really?"

I nodded my head rapidly, "that's what they're always like. Cooper gets babied and I get.. adulted? I was a mature kid, so they never really treated me like one. Cooper, on the other hand, they just wrap up in bubblewrap. He's adopted, so they're extra-protective. I understand."

"You're their child, too, Erin," the Doctor said, "you deserve the same treatment."

"No, no, it's..." I looked down at our joined hands. This wasn't what friends did. It wasn't. "I wouldn't want that. I don't like being treated like porcelain. Just as a warning," I added on, meeting his gaze.

"Noted," the Doctor said.

We were silent for a few minutes, basking in the quiet presence of the other, as the Doctor's long fingers played with mine. He drew patterns on my palm, circular works of art that I didn't have the faintest clue of understanding. It was making me nod off, a bit, because of how relaxing it all was.

"Thelma and Louise?" I asked if only to wake myself up, "how'd you know about that movie? You don't even know who Ant & Dec are."

"I had this friend..." he began, eyes going distant, "Donna. She liked that film 'cause it was empowering, she said. Just two women, sorting stuff their way. I got bored half-way through and ended up building a toaster that could fry an egg at the same time."

"That… actually sounds really useful," I said.

The Doctor gave me a self-aware smirk, "I  _do_  have some uses, Erin."

"You'll have to show me more of them sometime," I teased. Or flirted. It was hard to tell with the Doctor.

Eventually, it was all too much. By the darkness of the sky, it was already late in the afternoon, and I had stuff to do. I sat up, brushing down my outfit, and made my way over to my old computer; the Doctor followed, not yet releasing our hands.

I wasn't thinking about  _it_.

"Cooper said the Internet's playing up," I recalled, "can you fix it?"

"I'm not a miracle worker," he complained.

"Can you fix it?"

"… yes."

Reclaiming both of my hands to use, I logged onto my computer and immediately saw the problem; there was no internet. I knew the name for our network – an imaginatively named ' _Wilson1_ ' - but it was completely gone from the list.

"It might just be my computer," I said, "the signal's always been naff up here."

The Doctor nicked my phone without even asking for it; at this point, I was used to it and didn't complain.

"It's not on your phone, either," he told me, holding it up to the ceiling, "has the signal  _always_  been this bad?"

"Well, I can usually pick it up… it being  _completely_  gone is new. That's why you don't go for TalkTalk – everyone knows Virgin is best," I muttered under my breath, as the Doctor brought out his sonic and began wildly buzzing at both my phone and the computer, "we've got Virgin at the flat – Danielle insisted – and it works like a charm."

"I'm going to check downstairs," the Doctor said, pocketing my phone, "there's a good chance that the modem's been unplugged at the wall."

Knowing how technology-averse  _both_  my parents were, he was probably right. I waited until he left, shutting the door behind him, until collapsing onto the desk, resting against the wood.

This was…  _complicated_. I hadn't started travelling with the Doctor because he was  _cute_  or anything even remotely near that area – in fact, he wasn't even my type – yet I had to admit, a bond had sprung up at some point. Probably on Starship UK after he'd fallen down into the Star Whale's mouth to rescue me...

 _But_ , even if there was a bond, and even if I did perhaps like him in a way that I didn't when we first met, it was the Doctor. He was nine centuries old and, though it wasn't something particularly nice to consider because of how downright  _icky_  it made me feel, was old enough to be my great-grandfather several times over.

It was understandable for me to develop non-platonic feelings for him, with previous companions probably loving him themselves. What didn't make sense, however, was that the Doctor deemed me someone worthy of…  _his_  affections.

Lifting my gaze up, I noticed that a new WiFi network had popped up on my screen, made up of unusual symbols; ┓┏ 凵 =╱⊿┌┬┐. Unlike what was usual for the 21st century London, there was no 'locked' sign next to the WiFi name; it was open to the public, and had three full bars of signal, an alien thing for my room.

I clicked on it and was surprised when my computer instantly logged into the network with no fuss. Was this the Doctor's doing? I wouldn't put it past him.

I reached for my ring, on instinct; despite what I'd said to the Doctor, I was feeling its loss rather keenly. Wondering what to do instead, I looked at the photo of Lewis and I. It'd been three whole years since his death, filled with mourning, grief and guilt. I'd known it was time to move on for a while, now. I'd even  _tried_  it, once, to no avail. Had put my heart on the line, to the one person that was always there for me.

He rejected me.

Would the Doctor be like that? Was all this setting me up for failure, regardless of everything else? If the Doctor was a normal bloke, I'd probably make the first move… but he  _wasn't_  a normal bloke, which was the inherent problem.

I set the photo of Lewis back down and picked up a different, happier one; my old psychology professor, from before I'd dropped out, had taken the 'snap of us when we'd gone out for a walk together, by the Thames. It was after I'd left the course, lost within a whirlwind of heartbreak, and Jamie had been the first person to let me grieve on my  _own_  terms.

"What do I do?" I asked him.

"What do you do?" came an  _impossible_  voice from behind me, causing me to drop the photo in shock.

I knew that voice. I still had nightmares about that voice.

Turning in my chair, I saw where it came from: at 6'1, with wide shoulders hidden beneath a blue jumper, stood a handsome man. He had dark blond hair that was cut short, warm blue eyes that always seemed to shine despite the emotions they held, and was completely and utterly  _impossible_.

"Lewis," I gasped out of horror.

He looked the exact same as he did in the photograph on my desk, even down to his windswept hair. Lewis stared at me and there was no life in those eyes. Maybe that was the worst thing about all of this.

"Lewis," he parroted back.

"This isn't possible," I said, standing up, "this isn't possible!"

"This isn't possible," Lewis told me, "this isn't possible!"

I reached up to caress his cheek, tears spilling down my cheeks, "I'm sorry for what I did."

"You're sorry for what you did."

Lewis looked at me, still with those dead eyes, and then his head moved – from his neck upwards, like the Smilers on Starship UK – and… I let out a harsh gasp. His head turned around 180 degrees and the back of it was hollowed in, a metallic spoon-like shape with a blank screen.

Alien, I thought.

"Doctor!" I screamed, at the top of my lungs, already moving to run. Before I could get to the door, a beam came out of the base of the fake-Lewis, from the blank screen, and it hit me square in the chest. A pain unlike anything else I'd ever experienced shot through my mind, breaking down the wall that the Doctor had helped me build.

Everything went dark around me, my old bedroom fading away into nothingness, and I don't even know if my body hit the floor or not. My gaze stayed where it was, staring out and finding nothing there. Where was I?

There was absolutely nothing around me; an empty chasm. I could hear echoes from the distance but no matter how hard I strained, I couldn't make out any words. Were they lost, like I was?

Where was I?

I didn't know where I was. I didn't understand; how could something looking like Lewis bring me here? Was it a punishment for what I'd done? Was this purgatory?

I didn't know where I was.

I didn't know.

I didn't.

* * *

I woke.

It wasn't with a 'harsh gasp', as many stories would have you believe, but with a gentle one. I was in bed, tucked under the covers but still in my normal clothes. Pushing myself up, I realised that it was late at night and the moon was visible from my window.

On my bedside table, there was a fresh bouquet of daffodils, with a single thornless rose in the centre. Next to that there was a glass of water and… a plate of Jammie Dodgers. One of them was half-eaten, so I threw it in the bin with a disgusted expression. Rule one of being polite; you don't put half-eaten food back on the plate. It was just as bad as double-dipping, or licking the spoon.

After taking a sip of water to clear my throat, I tried to remember what had happened. Lewis had appeared… despite how impossible that was. He hadn't been real, I knew that. But where had he gone? What happened after that?

Was the Doctor even still here?

I left my bed to inspect the room: the fake-Lewis had been removed, the whole place spotless as if nothing had ever happened, and when I logged back onto my computer, we were connected to our old family WiFi. It was near the window that I spotted the first real clue to what had happened after I'd fallen unconscious; the TARDIS still stood on the front lawn, with the Doctor sat in front of it. He'd made a little camp, complete with a table and chairs, and was typing away at a laptop that looked vaguely familiar. It was hard to see from such a distance.

"Doctor?" I called, opening up the window.

"Erin!" he replied, immediately jumping to his feet and walking so he was beneath my window, "you're awake! How are you?"

"I… I don't know," I said, "did you put me to bed?"

"Yes."

"Okay… what happened to me?" at this question, his face turned dark and I hurried onwards, "'cause, Lewis… it can't have been him. So, what was it?"

"Something that took its physical form from your subconscious," the Doctor told me, holding up a piece of metal that had flashing lights all over it. It took me a while to realise it must've been whatever fake-Lewis had been beneath the surface, "no problem anymore."

"Did I miss anything important?"

He gave a sigh before beginning, "I told Cooper you'd fainted and he said it was a 'women's issue' that he didn't really know about, so I gave him a book about menstruation, your dad texted and said he'd be home for dinner tomorrow and wants to chat about something important – he wasn't happy about me being in your bedroom, FYI – and then I fixed the rattling noise in the washing machine, indexed the kitchen cupboards, optimised photosynthesis in the main flowerbed and assembled a quadricycle."

There was so much in that statement to unpack it took me a while to figure out where to start, "there's no such thing as a 'quadricycle', Doctor."

"I… invented the quadricycle!" his face lit up, akin to the London Eye on New Year's Eve when all the fireworks went off.

"What happened, though?" I pressed, leaning on the edge of the windowsill. "Seriously, Doctor, I didn't know where I was. It was… I was… empty."

"Don't know yet," the Doctor answered, at least honestly. "I'm figuring it out, though, promise."

He smiled then, quick and fleeting, and my curiosity was piqued, "what's that for?"

"S'nothing," he said, "it's silly."

"I like silly," I pointed out, "else why'd I be hanging around with you?"

"It's just..." the Doctor waved a hand up to me, gesturing to how I leaned out of the window, "you're reminding me of something."

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling my hair flutter in the breeze as I spoke, "Doctor, you can't leave a girl waiting. C'mon; tell."

"Have you ever read Shakespeare?" the Doctor asked, in what seemed to be a complete conversation shift, "perhaps some Romeo & Juliet?"

"Of course, I have," I said, laughing a little.

"Then you'll understand when I say the moon is very envious of you right now," the Doctor gave me a smile, full of gleaming white teeth, as my cheeks tinted pink, "but soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Erin is the sun."

A nervous breath escaped me in a whoosh, one of my hands grasping the window sill to steady myself. The passage he was quoting from was one of the most famous of all time; repeated and remade a hundred times over. Some foolish boy in love, the girl of his affections in a balcony high above, unknowing of his presence…

And then, with a cocky smirk of my own, I leaned forwards and called, "deny thy father and refuse thy name… I can't remember the rest."

"It's not important," the Doctor said, waving a hand, "you know the bard well."

"Majored in psychology, minored in English lit," I explained, "besides, it's Shakespeare. Everyone knows Shakespeare."

"Not everyone's met him," the Doctor smartly replied, blushing himself. He probably wasn't expecting me to throw Juliet's lines back at him.

"You met Shakespeare?" I demanded, almost falling out of the window as I eagerly leaned forward, "when? How? What was he like?"

The Doctor thought over it for a moment, before deciding on; "Flirtatious. Crude. Very clever."

"You're utterly ridiculous," I said.

"You only just realised that?" he asked.

"Well, this is the first time I've had time to just sit down and think," I pointed this out with a wave of my arm, only now noticing that the Doctor had set up a base camp in my front garden, "what are you doing down there?"

"Protecting you," the Doctor said, as if it was simple.

"From who?"

He shrugged, "from whoever tried to steal your mind. I promise you, Erin, they won't take you again."

"I… thank you," I said. What else could I say? He just admitted to guarding me, like I was a princess in a tower. Then again, this wasn't how this – our – relationship worked. We looked after each other. I pulled my own weight. "I'll be down in a moment."

The Doctor looked suitably confused in the moments before I slammed my window shut, hopping down onto the floor.

To put it basically, I wasn't going to let him decide my safety for me. And… seeing Lewis again was horrible. Every time I thought of it a shiver went up my spine. I didn't want to be alone, not with the constant reminder of his ghost hovering over me.

I decided to make a cup of tea for the Doctor and I – which was the traditional British response to anything – and Cooper ended up poking his head into the kitchen whilst I was waiting for the kettle to cook.

"You're up," he said, with some surprise, "finally. The Doctor said you fainted."

"I… know," and I was going to kill him for that later.

"He gave me a book on periods," Cooper continued, waving said book around. It featured a close up of a woman's stomach and was titled 'Ovaries and Brovaries; everything you need to know'. "The inside cover says it was printed in 2435!"

"It was a printing error," I excused, "and you don't actually have to read it."

Cooper hugged the book to his chest, "no, no, it's interesting. There's a section on how the fallopian tubes work."

"Why is that even remotely interesting?" I asked, despite myself.

"I dunno. I've never really given it much thought before," Cooper's voice lowered, "and he's totally your boyfriend. He sat by your bed for two hours."

Blushing at the thought – and the fact it was just unlikely for us to be 'just friends' at this point – I turned to hide my face, busying myself with making the tea.

"The Doctor," I began, when I had enough time to make up a sufficient cover story, "isn't interested in that sort of relationship. He's… recovering from losing someone he loved."

That 'someone' being his entire race. Close enough, I guess.

"Two hours," Cooper repeated, "and he left flowers and Jammie Dodgers for you. Held your hand the entire time."

I studiously ignored him, humming under my breath as I added the three teaspoons of sugar that the Doctor preferred – and just a dash of milk!

"You're not the only one with a window, you know?"

At the jarring change in subject, I finally glanced at my brother, "what?"

"'Oh Doctor, Doctor, wherefore art Doctor?'," Cooper parroted, batting his eyelashes, "I could hear you two."

"Oh, shut up!"

"It was disgusting! I might need a tooth removed from how sweet it all was! The man is also delusional. He met Shakespeare?"

"Not the Shakespeare, obviously," I lied. "Just a convincing actor who played Shakespeare, like… Dean Lennox Kelly."

I left the kitchen then, Cooper hot on my heels, and shivered in the chilly November weather that greeted us on the street. The Doctor waved us over to his little camp, clearing off the second chair so I could sit down.

"What about me?" Cooper asked, being the quite literal third wheel.

"Go find a chair," I said.

Cooper dropped his book onto the table with a heavy thud, sending me an annoyed look, "are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Would you rather sit on the floor?" I gestured towards the ground invitingly.

With a grumble, he moved back towards the house and I was – finally – alone with the Doctor.

"He's a good kid," the Doctor said, watching him go. "A lot like you."

"We used to be really close," I remembered, "when he first came to live with us, he followed me like a shadow. I miss that."

"You moved out a few years ago?"

I nodded, handing the Doctor his cup of tea. "When I was nineteen. I started uni around then and it just seemed easier to move closer than drive for an hour every day. And, I can't drive so..."

"Psychology and then art?" the Doctor lifted his eyebrows up, "I can't see a connection between the two."

"Well..." I leaned back into the garden chair, looking up at the sky; it was always too bright in London to see the stars, but I could imagine. "I wanted to be a social worker, like the woman who brought us to Cooper. My professor was… we still speak. He's amazing, really, and I enjoyed the hell out of it."

"Then Lewis died," the Doctor said knowingly. I realised then that he must've seen the fake-Lewis. What had he thought of my ex-fiancé?

"Yeah… I was in a rough spot for a few months and then I dropped out. Joined art school last year," I shrugged, "it's nothing. Old news."

"It's not," he said, "I want to know."

We both took a sip of tea, too British and awkward to really discuss the things on our minds. He was an alien, sure, but he was a British alien.

"I like your house," the Doctor mentioned, randomly. "It fits you. Very pretty."

"It was built before World War Two," I side-stepped the 'pretty' remark, "so it's very old. I always thought it had character."

"It does."

"Doctor," I finally snapped, "what happened to me? Where was I? What was that thing that… that looked like Lewis?"

"Mobile server," the Doctor answered, hoisting up the half-broken piece of technology, "looks like a spoon. Spoonhead? Shall we call it that?"

"Who sent the Spoonhead?"

He hesitated before answering, which told me all I needed to know, "WiFi is all over the world, like custard over fish fingers. We're all fish fingers in a custard-filled bowl. Say something got into the custard, something alive, and it starts stealing the minds of the fish fingers-"

"Stop with the fish finger metaphor," I requested.

"Okay, fine," he didn't seem too happy about it, "something is alive in the WiFi. Stealing human minds, human souls trapped in the world-wide web. Stuck forever, crying out for help."

"You just described Tumblr," I said.

The Doctor laughed under his breath, typing on my laptop again- wait.

"That's my laptop!" I leaned into his side, hair falling across his neck, and saw all of my documents laid out in front of me, "this was in my flat! Locked! How did you-"

"It was only a ten minute walk from here," the Doctor defended, mullishly, "and… well… you could use a stronger password. It an easy guess."

"Oh," I flopped back onto my own chair, "I hate you sometimes."

The Doctor snorted under his breath, "it's just part of my charm. I'm a super-smart alien with two hearts and an IQ greater than the joint population of this planet. Guessing your password wasn't a complicated task."

"So, what are you doing now?" I posed this question if only to ignore the total eradication of my privacy. In all honesty, he was right; Passwordy McPasswordface wasn't the best one I could've picked.

"A computer can hack another computer. A living, sentient computer, maybe that could hack people," at this, he sent me a covert look. "Increase IQ, morality, decrease it, if needed. The building blocks of what makes a person unique, all up to change. You could re-write someone's entire personality."

"Really?" it was scary to think of it. To think that my entire person – my likes, dislikes, wants and needs – could be changed by someone at a keyboard. "How's it work?"

"Are you any good at maths, Erin?" the Doctor asked, crossing his arms.

"Terrible," I laughed, "I had to do my GCSE three times and even then I only got a C-."

"1963 divided by eleven?"

"178," came the answer, unbidden to my tongue.

I gasped after I realised what I'd said, because there was all sorts of smart stuff in my head. Stuff that hadn't been there before.

"Doctor," I grabbed at his hand, reassured to feel him grasping back, "what did they do to me?"

"Improved your IQ, I'd say," he told me, setting his cup of tea down to cup my cheek. "Don't worry, it's not permanent."

"Why do this?" I heard myself ask, voice very distant. The thought of being changed against my will wasn't an easy thing to consider. I didn't like it. The thought of someone rooting around in my head and changing whatever they fancied.

There was no reply from the Doctor, who had left my side and was now staring off across the street. He slowly withdrew his sonic and pointed it out, scanning something I couldn't see in the dark.

"What-"

"You and me in the TARDIS, now," he snapped.

"Doctor," I complained, "you can't just order me around! This is just like when you went off to fight Akhaten, sending me off without a care for what I want. There's no little girl to look after this time, so what's the problem?"

After my nice speech – which came from the annoyed heart, let me tell you – the lights on the street began turning on one by one. Soon enough, the entire street was lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Is that the WiFi?" I stood close to the Doctor's side, gripping onto his sleeve. "Is the WiFi turning the lights on?"

"No, the WiFi is turning the people on," he looked at me very quickly, "don't laugh."

"I don't think this is the moment for dirty jokes, do you?"

That's when we saw it; something stepped out from the dark and under the streetlamp. It was a man, I thought, only the back of his head was turned in like fake-Lewis' had been.

"Spoonhead?" I guessed. "Why's it look like that?"

"It's taken from your subconscious," the Doctor said, "they could be anywhere. Invisible to the population, silently taking victims."

I looked behind us, noticing that the street behind us was dark. It was just my street, a one bright spot in the entire neighbourhood. "Just us," I said, "we're a massive bullseye."

The wind picked up around us, my hair becoming unruly, and it was because of this that I didn't see whatever made the Doctor curse under his breath.

"Some planes have WiFi," I heard from him faintly.

"What?!" it was practically a screech that left me, so I coughed smoothly and said, "what does that have to do with anything?"

"We must be one hell of a target right now," the Doctor continued on. He pointed up to the sky and that's when I saw it; an aeroplane was headed straight for us, dangerously close to nosediving at us.

We raced into TARDIS, too panicked to try and discuss a plan. It was a bit disconcerting, going from 'small blue box' to 'massive spaceship', but I was slowly growing used to it. The sensation of entering the TARDIS felt unreal, sometimes, but it was the good kind of unreal; like when the roller-coaster dips. That one moment of sheer disbelief at what your senses are screaming at you.

Though, that could've been because of the plane minutes away from crashing into my house.

"Doctor," I began, "what's-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he raced around the console like I'd never seen before, and once we 'lifted off' the ride was more more violent than it was usually, "I'm sorry but short hops are very difficult!"

"What are we doing?" I asked, trying to steady myself on the slippery glass floor, "Doctor, my brother-!"

The TARDIS settled with a heavy groan, the time rotor – which is what the Doctor called the uppy-downy thing in the centre of the TARDIS console – was going faster than ever. It all made me very uncertain.

"C'mon!" the Doctor cried, grabbing a hold of my hand and pulling me from the TARDIS; we'd moved onto the plane itself, only the gravity was pulling us down the aisle and not to the floor.

As the Doctor dragged me down the plane, literally down, I realised that it was all very quiet for a planecrash; the passengers were all lying down in their chairs, heads dipped low, and I hesitated to ask, "are they dead? Did the WiFi kill them?"

"No!" the Doctor had to yell over the sound of the turbines, "they're just asleep! Ignore them for now!"

We reached the cockpit, though the door was locked to prevent entry. With a quick buzz of the sonic, the Doctor freed the way and we made our way into the cramped room. The pilots were out as well, and I saw that we were far too close to my house for comfort.

"Do something, then," I urged.

The Doctor reached for the controls but didn't do anything with them, just fiddling around whilst my childhood home loomed closer and closer.

"Doctor," I said.

"That's my name," he laughed a bit maniacally, "I'm the Doctor, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous, I'm 907, I've got two hearts and I've never learnt how to fly a sodding plane!"

"Shit," I swore, as we hit a spot of turbulance and I went flying into his back, arms wrapping around his shoulders, "you never read a book about it in nine hundred years?!"

"I was busy!"

We were no perilously close to crashing; we had thirty, maybe forty, seconds until we were on a course set in stone.

"What do we do?" I muttered furiously, "what do we do? What do we do?"

"We'll do it together," the Doctor decided.

He took my hands and placed them on the controls, his palms coming over to grip my wrists, and we both pulled the joystick-thing upwards, feeling the metal of the plane groan at such a harsh change in altitude. It took a while but eventually we were clear, slowly returning to cloud-level.

"Oh thank god," I said, collapsing onto the Doctor's back and letting myself curl around him into a Ghost-style hug.

"Would a victory roll be too showy-offy?" the Doctor asked this as his head rested in the crook of my neck, panting heavily from the adrenaline.

"Just a bit, yeah," I said, looking down at him.

"What the hell is going on?"

We shot apart like scattering pigeons, finding the pilots groggily waking up. The one to our left re-took the controls from the Doctor and I, using his free hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"I blocked the WiFi, so they're all going to start waking up. Glad you've got the wheel," suddenly cold, the Doctor shrugged me off and loped off back to the TARDIS.

"What the- what happened?" the pilot took a glance out the window, "how are we- we're off course!"

"There was… engine difficulties," I excused, "I have to go. Good luck!"

I raced after the Doctor, wondering if we'd really just been  _that_  close to certain death.

"Back home!" he announced, once I shut the TARDIS doors behind me. "Safe and sound, I'll keep investigating the WiFi. I was going to go easy on them but they ignored my warning, so it's on them, really."

Once again, the TARDIS flight was violent and the Doctor wasn't helping things; he wouldn't meet my gaze as he spun around the console.

"Warning?" I asked, then. "What warning?"

He didn't answer immediately, waiting until the TARDIS had settled and he'd led me from it, arm around my waist, "Erin, I've been around for almost a thousand years. I've got a bit of a reputation. So, when they took you-"

I didn't let him finish, elbowing him harshly in the gut when I realised we weren't alone. Stood not more than five feet away, a smashed cup of tea at his feet with wide, disbelieving eyes, was my baby brother.

"It- it vanished," Cooper said, pointing at the TARDIS, "the- the blue box it left and the plane was headed straight for us- Erin, what the-?"

"Oh," he must've seen everything, I realised, seen the plane almost crashing and our valiant rescue of it, "oh, Coop. No."

* * *

"Time Lord?" he repeated, for the fifth time.

"Time Lord," I confirmed, dozing off in the armchair. "From Gallifrey. Completely alien."

It was past midnight now and despite my earlier rest, I was absolutely knackered. Cooper had demanded answers for what he'd seen and the Doctor had – against my wishes – told Cooper the truth. Of how we'd met and how I travelled across the stars with him. I'd be angry, because this life wasn't something I wanted Cooper near, but it was too late to say it was all a practical joke.

"And- and you knew him for less than a day and decided to run away?" Cooper's question was filled with anger, and I didn't know if it was out of concern for my safety or because of how stupid that decision really was.

"I trusted him," was my only excuse, "I felt like I belonged by his side. The Doctor has shown me some wonderful things, Coop."

"You were eaten by a space whale!"

The Doctor cleared his throat from the archway to the dining room, "it was a Star Whale, actually, Mr. Wilson. And everything – and I do mean 'everything' - that Erin has been through was because she consented to it. She wanted this."

"I know that," Cooper said, "but she's not exactly known for being level headed when it comes to pretty boys."

"Cooper!" my voice came out so loud even I was surprised by it. Even so, he had no right to say that. "How dare you?"

My brother knew he'd made a mistake from the second he caught a glimpse of my furious expression, "Erin, I didn't mean-"

"I know exactly what you meant," I said, haughtily, "and I thought you were better than that. I'm not the same person that I was then."

"I… I know," Cooper mumbled, "I was just- you almost died! And it's his fault!"

I stood up from my chair with a dramatic flick of my hair, using my height advantage over Cooper – a whole two inches. "It was my choice to join him. D'you know what that means? It's my fault. No man has ever decided what I do with my life and no man ever will. That includes you."

"I'm not trying to control you," he defended, "but a plane just divebombed us, Erin. Because of him."

"Because I saved your sister's life," the Doctor corrected. "Whoever took Erin's mind weren't happy that I saved her, so they sent the plane. If I hadn't been here, she would've died."

Cooper gulped, glancing between us. "Really?"

"The Doctor doesn't lie," I said, instantly. "Never."

"It's… it's..." resignedly, he hung his head and spoke to the carpet, "it doesn't matter either way, does it? You're with him."

I tilted his chin up, forcing him to make eye contact, "Cooper. I'm a grown woman. I can look after myself. Nothing will happen to me."

If it hadn't been for Cooper attack-hugging me in the same way I'd attacked-hugged him when I first came home, I would've missed the guilty look on the Doctor's face. He cast his eyes away from me, kicking his foot at the floor before leaving the room.

"Go to bed, yeah?" I instructed my little brother gently, pushing on his shoulders. "It's late and you have school tomorrow."

"I could just take the day off," Cooper suggested.

"No."

He went off upstairs, grumbling as he did so, and I left the house to find the Doctor in the front garden, making haste for the TARDIS.

"Not running out on me, are you?" I asked. It was a mirthful question, though there was an undercurrent of fear in it. Cooper knew about the Doctor now, and whoever was behind those Spoonheads knew about us too. We were in danger.

"You should go back to bed," the Doctor told me, unlocking the TARDIS. He stopped in the open doorway, letting the orange light trickle into the garden. "You've had a long day."

"I'll sleep later," I told him. "We've got the Spoonheads to stop."

"Erin," he began, resting a hand on my shoulder, "you almost died. If I hadn't been quick enough, you'd already be dead."

"Why are you upset over that? You saved me! I'm alive!"

"Barely," the Doctor scathed, more angry with himself than anyone else, "this is my fault. They sent that plane here because of my intervention."

"I… know. But… if you hadn't been here, and I'd still picked on that WiFi network, I'd be dead." My words were met with silence and guilty eyes; the Doctor already knew this piece of information. It was not news to him. In fact, he'd most likely already thought of this when I was discussing what had happened with Cooper. He'd realised that I would've been dead otherwise. He viewed my survival a mistake.

I stepped away, brows drawing together, and tried to stop the tears from coming. It was a one-sided battle from the very start, the Doctor showing no outward sympathy as the tiny droplets of salty water dripped down my prominent cheekbones.

"You regret saving me," I said.

"I regret putting you in this situation," the Doctor corrected.

"No, but, you said this thing is taking loads of people. Even if we'd never met – if you crashed into someone elses' path – I still might've clicked on it. I still might've died. Would that… be more preferable than this?"

He wrestled with himself for a moment, seeming torn, before quietly admitting, "possibly, yes. The plane held two hundred passengers. How many people live near you, Erin? A hundred? Those people almost died because I invited you along with me."

"So?" I seemed callous, I knew, but he made no sense. "Those people were never going to die! You're… you. You save people, it's what you do no matter what. When we first met, you had no clue who you were or what you wanted to do. You still stopped Zero."

"That's different!" the Doctor exclaimed, "Zero would have always been a threat. This, here? Those people almost died because of my direct intervention. The entirety of Starship UK was almost obliterated because of my direct intervention. There was a reason why my last body swore off companionship; I cause more danger than I stop."

"You find trouble, Doctor, because you're drawn to it. Zero would have always escaped, yes, but Starship UK? They tortured the Star Whale for centuries on that ship, with no one none the wiser. There was a risk in helping, but you performed an act of kindness far greater than any possible death!"

"No..." he sighed, leaning against the door. There were lines near his eyes that I'd never seen before. His true age, shining through. "You performed an act of kindness by saving the Star Whale. I wanted to destroy his mind and reduce him to a vegetable. You saw though the loneliness and the bitterness to see what I'd missed; there was a heart of gold beneath it all."

"I'm good at that," I said, humorously.

The Doctor smiled, though there was no joy behind it. "My companions are always the best of me… but I'm the one who stands over their bodies. I'm the one who carries the guilt. You remember Donna, the woman I mentioned earlier? My best mate?"

"Y-yeah, I do."

"I had to wipe her mind of any trace of me. If she ever remembers me, she'll burn up from the inside and die. I did that to her. My best friend in all creation, and I'm the reason why she's forgot what made her more than she was."

That was the most horrible thing the Doctor had ever said to me. The thought of him entering my mind, destroying every memory we shared… "would you do that again?"

"I'd do anything to save your life, Erin," the Doctor answered, "even if it broke both of my hearts."

"I-" I'd rather die than be stripped of who I was. He was no better than those faceless villains behind the Spoonheads, the ones who'd messed with my personality. "I never thought you possible of that."

"That means more to me than you could ever guess."

I stepped away from him, unable to keep eye contact up. This hurt more than Lewis' sudden reappearance had. The Doctor would make me forget if he deemed it necessary…

"I won't let you," I decided, "my mind is my own and I would rather die as myself than live as someone you deem 'safe'."

"Erin-"

"No!" I cried, dancing away from his outreached hand, "you don't get to do that, Doctor! My life isn't something you have control over!"

"If you travel with me," he said, more serious than ever, "you might die. I am tired of standing over the bodies of those I care for."

"So am I," I said, "but people die every day. Lewis was hit by a car when he crossed the road. I saw it happen. I know death, Doctor, and I won't let it ruin my life like you let it ruin yours!"

I turned on my heel and stormed into the house, slamming the door shut behind me. I didn't turn to see if the Doctor had followed, or if he'd already left in the TARDIS; I went straight up to my room and collapsed onto my bed.

* * *

The arrival of the next day was heralded by the cooing of pigeons and my brother banging on my bedroom door.

"Erin!" called Cooper, from the outside my room, "you decent? Don't wanna see your Batman bra again."

With a groan, I rolled out of bed and shuffled over to the door. I opened it to find myself greeted by a massive bouquet of roses.

"What?" I asked, sure I was still dreaming.

"Found them on the front doorstep," Cooper explained, head popping up from behind the flowers, "I think your Time Lord toyboy left them for you."

I accepted the flowers, wrinkling my nose at my brother, "toyboy? He's eight hundred and eighty-two years older than me."

"I know," Cooper said, shrugging, "but it sounds funny, doesn't it? There's a card, as well; don't worry, I protected my innocent eyes from it."

"Ha, ha."

I strode over to my desk – the only surface in my room with enough space for the flowers – and set them down there. The card was hidden in the centre of the bunch, and my eyebrows went up into the stratosphere when I read it.

_Erin,_

_You're perfect the way you are; clever, pretty and compassionate._

_I don't want you to change._

_Love,_

_The Doctor, your Time Lord toyboy._

"Did you tell the Doctor about your new nickname for him?" I asked, before anything else registered in my mind.

"Nah, he was sulking in his box when I opened the front door. Don't know who left them there, but it was him, wasn't it?"

"Mind your beeswax," I said, decisively. I left the card with the flowers and pushed Cooper out of my room, "you have school to get ready for."

He coughed in a very obvious manner, "I think I'm coming down with something."

"Really?" I checked his forehead like any concerned family member would, "well, there has been that bug going around. I'd best phone mum and ask her to come check-"

"No, no!" Cooper nervously backed away, "I think I'm fine! Just the morning sniffles! I'm going to go shower now!"

"Don't use all the hot water," I requested, as he waved off my words and hopped down the stairs to the second floor of the house.

I showered myself and spent a while choosing between the old clothes I kept here and just wearing my old ones from yesterday. I didn't really feel like going around in the same outfit, so I squeezed myself into jeans that were a lot tighter than I remembered them being. I pocketed the card and left the house at the same time Cooper did, dressed in his school uniform and with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.

"Gross," I commented.

"We stopped buying mounds of cereal after you left," he replied, giving me a one-armed hug before setting off on his way. The hug was a surprise, though not undeserved after the night we'd had.

It took three minutes of psyching myself up before I knocked on the TARDIS, a steady beat of four. I'd barely finished it before the Doctor shot out, staring at me in puzzlement.

"Why four knocks?" he asked, slightly on edge.

"Because… I always knock four times? It's not something I think too much about," I brushed aside his question, thinking of the roses, "did you, uh, send me flowers this morning?"

"No," the Doctor said, now looking even more befuddled, "why? Do you want flowers?"

"It doesn't matter… you stayed."

He glanced at the TARDIS, as if confirming it himself. "Yeah, yeah, I did. Couldn't just leave you, now, could I?"

"So? Have you changed your mind? You won't change mine." I crossed my arms across my chest, trying to show a determined woman who wouldn't accept any of his nonsense. I don't know how successful I was.

"I don't  _want_  you to go anywhere, Erin," the Doctor told me, "but I'm worried for what will happen to you. Yours is a grave I do not want to stand over one day."

"I could say the same for you," I said, gently. "If we look out for each other-"

The Doctor laughed, a bitter thing that made me wince. "I'll never have a grave, Erin. When I finally die, at the end of my twelfth life, there'll be no spot to mark where I fell. I wouldn't want there to be."

"Okay, I know this isn't important but- you say that dying for you Time Lords is nothing. That you just change everything you are and carry on. But… you still die. Don't you ever grieve for your own death? Shouldn't you, I mean, do it for your own mental health?"

"Grief requires looking back," he explained, "and that's the one thing I don't do."

Explained a lot, actually. He talked about his past companions, but I doubt he ever visited them.

"Doctor..." I sighed. "What do we do now?"

"Breakfast."

I blinked at the unexpected answer, lifting my head to frown at him, "what?"

"We do breakfast," he said, as though it were simple.

"Why?"

"Because it's part of a healthy diet and slowly releases energy throughout the day," the Doctor gestured towards the main hub of London, "we'll go further into the city, find a café. My treat."

The Doctor… was inviting me out… for breakfast.

"What?" I repeated.

"My. Treat," he slowly drew out each syllable. "I'll drive. Just need to pop down to the garage, c'mon!"

He grabbed ahold of my hand and yanked me into the TARDIS, dragging me straight past the console and further in. It was a zig-zag pattern through the winding, twisting corridors, with doors on either side. Most were closed, but through a few left-open ones I saw wonders barely describable; there was an entire jungle in one, a large swimming pool two corridors down (probably the one the Doctor had just fallen into when we met), a room that was filled to the brim in glowing orbs of every colour, a hamster terrarium that spanned a football pitch, and what I could only describe as the room of bubbles.

"Can we go there later?" I asked him, tilting my head back to try and keep an eye on it.

"Oh, it's always the bubble room! Not the ball room, just the bloody bubbles!"

"You have a ballroom?!"

"No," the Doctor corrected me, "not a ballroom. I have a ball room. There's a space between the two words. It's a ball pit, only the size of a room. I do, actually, have a proper ballroom – the one from Beauty and the Beast. One of my companions asked the TARDIS for it and the old girl got attached."

All this, hidden inside a police box.

"Why does the TARDIS look like she does? You said that no one'll look at a police box and think 'time machine', so is that why you made her like that?"

"I didn't make the TARDIS," he said, slowing to a fast walk. The garage was larger than my entire house and was a sleek white colour, hosting everything from yachts to mopeds, sports cars and the alien equivalent of all of those vehicles. "She was grown on Gallifrey, like all others of her kind. She didn't originally look like that at all, but her chameleon circuit got stuck and she's been stuck like that ever since."

"Gallifrey?" The planet had been mentioned a few times now, "that's where you're from? The TARDIS was created by your people?"

"Millions of years before I was born, yeah."

He walked off further into the garage, muttering under his breath the whole time; whatever car he was looking for was hard to find, obviously.

"Is your planet gone?" I eventually asked.

There was no answer for the first fifteen seconds, nor did I expect there would be one anytime soon. Then, to my immediate surprise, there came a response, "Gallifrey was on the edges of the Time War. It was destroyed along with everything else. The TARDIS is the last of her kind, as I'm the last of my own."

"I'm sorry," I said, unable to think of anything else to offer him. It wasn't something I could relate to. Losing Earth and the rest of humanity was… unthinkable. It would never happen, I hoped, and even if it did… I couldn't imagine it.

"S'not your fault," the Doctor replied, popping his head around a column, "it's mine."

That startled a laugh out of me, "I doubt your responsible for the end of your people, Doctor."

A roar of a motorbike stopped anything else he might've said, coming from a Triumph bike. I let out a surprised squeal and ran to his side, latching onto his arm, "we're riding this?"

"Excited?" he questioned with a grin, pulling two helmets from under the seat and passing them to me.

"Yes! My bike's been in the shop for two weeks, so I haven't ridden since it broke down. I've never ridden a Triumph before."

I pulled on the helmet eagerly, uncaring that it would mess up my hair, and zipped up my jacket in preparation for the bitter winds we'd face.

"I had no idea that you had a motorbike," the Doctor said, with some shock of his own, "you didn't seem the..."

"Type?" I guessed.

He squinted at me, fumbling with the straps on his helmet. I took pity and fastened it for him, fingertips slipping across his jaw as he spoke, "yes, I suppose. It makes sense if I think about it."

"It does?" I glanced up at him, sly, "how?"

"Riding a motorbike is more reckless than a car, gives you more freedom. Two things I offer."

I patted him on the cheek as I stepped away, "I can't feel the wind in my hair on the TARDIS, but sure."

The Doctor climbed atop the motorbike and offered me a hand so I could climb on behind him, arms tight around his waist. It was the third time we'd been in such a position since we met under a week ago, and I was beginning to think the Doctor was picking our transport for this alone.

I wasn't complaining.

When the engine roared to life beneath us, I let out a happy whoop. There was a track from where the Triumph was parked to the door, though there wasn't a lift or ramp to take us back to the console room; where we going to drive the entire way? There were stairs on that journey and as reckless as I was, even I knew that was a bad idea waiting to happen.

Then, as we approached the door with our speed building up, the Doctor pointed the sonic at a panel next to the open archway; he activated something within the TARDIS, causing the corridor to vanish as we exited onto my front garden.

"Holy hell," I muttered, "I didn't know you could do that!"

The Doctor sent me a cocky grin over his shoulder, "one of my  _many_  uses."

We set off from my house and the aforementioned bitter winds made their presence known; at the first red light we came across, the Doctor grumbled under his breath about how the cold wasn't good for the engine, but he didn't bother to button up his tweed jacket. In all honesty, I'd noticed before now that the Doctor felt cold all the time. The only time he'd been remotely close to a normal temperature – well, a temperature normal for humans – was when he'd been ill after regenerating. Perhaps it was a part of Time Lord biology.

No questions about directions or suggestions on where to eat came my way from the front, so I assumed the Doctor knew where he was going. After nine hundred years, he probably knew every café and restaurant in the galaxy, much less just London.

"Hey," I suddenly began, a thought occurring to me, "are there aliens in the Milky Way?"

The Doctor had to shout back over the wind and the rumbling engine, "Erin, there are aliens in this solar system!"

That floored me. Were Martians actually real? Venusians? Was Jupiter's gas clouds hiding massive technologically advanced cities?

"Mind you, most of them aren't as interesting as humans. The Ice Warriors are all about war, nowadays. The Venusians have created some brilliant forms of hand-to-hand combat, I'm proficient in quite a few of them. Or I used to be, at least. I was on holiday and got bored, blimey, was it hard to learn it missing six of the required limbs!"

"Venusians have six limbs?" I slowly asked, having heard a lot of startling information in a short span of time.

He laughed beneath his breath, "don't be silly! They've got ten! Five arms, five legs."

"That is..." so not what I was expecting. "You go on holidays? Isn't your entire life one big holiday?"

"Holidays are when I don't feel like having my life threatened," the Doctor explained.

You could hear how sceptical I really was when I spoke, "and does that actually happen?"

"… no," he admitted, after a hesitation.

Thought so.

Our drive into the city was uneventful; we weren't too far from my flat, so I did debate stopping off there for a short while. By the time I made up my mind, the Doctor had already taken us past, following the traffic laws for once. It was actually nice, being able to enjoy the sights of my home city.

I hadn't truly looked at London in years. I'd grown used to the crowds, to the monuments, to the gaggle of tourists that would loudly ask for directions on every street corner. Going away, travelling with the Doctor, had given me a new appreciation for it all. The pigeons weren't something I missed, though.

We pulled to a stop not too far from St Paul's Cathedral, which surprised me. Any cafés here were way out of my price range, with even the pavement looking posher than the stuff 'round Shoreditch. The Doctor helped me off the bike as he gestured upwards, where I could see a rooftop terrace high above us.

"That place looks nice, yeah?"

"I suppose," I said, wondering how on Earth we'd get up there. The buildings around us were all very modern, with glass window fronts and trendy people wearing glasses with no lenses and tattoos hidden beneath their goat wool jumpers. It was the complete opposite from where I would usually choose to hang out, but if the Doctor wanted to treat me, I wouldn't be opposed.

The route to the café was found in the form of a sleek lift with glass sides and floor, like the one from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I gulped nervously as we stepped inside, clinging onto the railing for dear life as the Doctor hit the button for the top floor.

He stared at me for a few moments, head cocked to the side in curiosity, "are you scared of heights, Erin?"

"No," I said.

"You look scared," he noted.

"I'm not a fan of these death traps," I eventually muttered.

"Lifts?"

"If the TARDIS were made of glass, I wouldn't like it, either, alright?" Huffing a breath, I stared up at the (glass) ceiling, wondering when we'd arrive at our floor. "I like having a floor beneath me. Call me old-fashioned."

Though he tried to hide it, the Doctor began to chuckle at my expense, shoulders shaking.

"It isn't funny!" I protested, which only served to make him laugh harder, "these things are terrifying!"

"And Akhaten wasn't?" he asked, "you stared down a parasitic dwarf planet and this is what what gives you nightmares?"

"Everyone has stupid fears. It's part of human nature."

The lift rolled to a stop with a ding, opening to a café packed with rich clientèle ordering complex coffee and a gluten-free muffin to match. I passed through the tables without a second glance, bursting out onto the terrace to gasp in big mouthfuls of air.

"I'm sorry for laughing," the Doctor apologised, at my side even now. He had an arm around my waist and was leading me over to a table right on the edge, with only two seats and a lovely view of the Cathedral. "You never mentioned a fear of… glass floors."

"That's 'cause I didn't think it would come up," I explained, morosely. "It's stupid. I mean, glass floors? Who's scared of that?"

"You, obviously."

I kicked at his legs under the table, "very funny. I don't know why it freaks me out, but it does. One of those things, I guess. Coop's scared of dust in sunlight – even I can't explain that one."

"I can," the Doctor said, very readily, before something else occurred to him and his eyes went wide, "but I won't. That would be… bad. Informative but very, very bad. Extremely not good."

"Don't tell me dust is alien," I joked. Of all the things on the planet, I knew that wasn't true.

"Well… not all dust is alien. Only some of it. Bees, for instance, were originally all alien before the colony adapted to Earth life." At my disbelieving look, the Doctor shrugged, "bees and dust are aliens."

"You're kidding me," I said, faintly.

"No," the Doctor shook his head.

"How can dust be alien? It's not alive!"

"Ah, ah, ah!" he waved a finger at me, eagerly leaning over the table, "I said 'not all' dust. Some dust is just that, dust, but some of it is in fact an alien lifeform known as the Vashta Nerada. Nasty piece of work, they are; can strip the flesh from a body in a manner of seconds."

"You're telling me..." I took in a deep breath, "some dust is fine, and some dust eats people in seconds flat?"

The Doctor gave me a thumbs-up and a big gappy smile, "yup!"

"… and I thought glass floors were terrifying."

Our conversation dimmed for a moment, as the Doctor looked out at the skyline and I looked at him. Young but old, old but young, caring and indifferent, handsome but eternally unavailable. The card burned in my pocket, Love, the Doctor, and I wondered who sent it. Not my Doctor, certainly, but he was a time traveller. Had a future Doctor sent it, knowing that he'd upset me? Was it someone else entirely?

"The plane almost crashing made the news," he said, breaking through my thoughts, "so that's why we were safe last night. Our reappearance in London probably tipped them off as to where we are. They'll find us, sooner or later."

"Can't we just find them first?" I asked.

The Doctor, with a coy grin I was slowly getting used to, relaxed into his chair, "how do you propose we do that?"

"By using their tech against them," I said, as though it were simple. For me, it was. "You're… you. You can hack them."

"Just because I'm me doesn't mean I can just defeat a shadow organisation that can hack human beings," the Doctor replied.

"You're nine hundred and six," I pointed out, "you totally have a plan for this."

"It's nine hundred and seven, actually, and I don't look a day over half that."

I scoffed, "you don't look like a day over twenty-six."

The Doctor pawed at his face, "shut up. I'm nine centuries old and I'm reduced to a baby-face. It's undignified."

"You're distracting me," I sing-songed, playing with my hair, "you don't want me to think about the shadowy evil people who tried to kill me."

"They weren't trying to kill you," he gently explained, "they want to upload your consciousness to the internet and then sell you on for a profit. They want to rip you away from the people who care for you for no other reason than money. I won't allow it."

The word choice gave me pause, "you won't  _allow_  it?"

"No."

No embellishment, no grand speech, nothing more than the plain truth. The Doctor wouldn't allow my death. It was touching, and what I needed to hear. I'd been worried about it, even if I hadn't allowed myself to think about that worry. There were so many different things going on at once, my own personal fears didn't have much leg room.

The Doctor brought my laptop up out of nowhere, setting it down on the table and tapping away on the keyboard. "They're in London," he said, by way of explanation, "definitely nearby judging by the signal distribution. I can hack the lowest level of their operating system but I can't establish a physical location. The security's too good."

"That's my laptop," I said, a bit slow.

"Yeah, it is."

"You didn't carry my laptop up here," I pointed out.

His eyes met mine over the screen, "no, I didn't."

I was puzzled, which he knew judging from the twinkle in his eyes. "… how?"

"Pockets," the Doctor said, popping the 'P'. "Bigger on the inside."

"What'll you do to whoever's behind this? Akhaten imploded, the Star Whale helped the UK, and Zero… Zero was sent back to the Atraxi," thinking of his execution still gave me a bad feeling, "these people are humans, right? Or use humans as a front? You can't arrest them. No one'll believe us. Aliens are old hat."

"Old hat?" he repeated.

"It's been six years. The Planets in the Sky and the… other planet in the sky – the big one, at Christmas – that was a long time ago for Earth. We're moving on."

The Doctor kept my gaze for a beat, searching for something, then spoke in a very quick tone, "the other planet was Gallifrey."

Wait.

What.

Gallifrey was his-

"Your planet was-"

"I'll call in UNIT," he answered, blowing straight past me, "they'll deal with everything quietly. You saw them at work with Zero. This is what UNIT do. What I used to help them do."

"We find them, UNIT takes them out? Seems too easy."

He sent me an incredulous look, "you want it to be harder?"

"No..."

"Then don't complain," he said, typing again.

"You're doing it wrong," I pointed out, "you're focusing on the people that they've taken and keep getting blocked by their security."

"So?"

I tilted my entire body forwards, "you should be looking at the people that put up the security."

The Doctor, who had been steadily ignoring me, paused in his typing, "what?"

I folded my arms on the table, "the people. The Spoonheads, wherever I was uploaded to, the plane being hacked. People were behind that."

"You're… right..." a spark entered the Doctor, causing his fingers to blur across the keyboard. "I hacked the lower operating system… that should give us enough room to find personnel files. That was a brilliant idea."

"Thanks," now I was the one blushing.

"Clever Erin," came the familiar phrase.

He tapped away at the keys, driven by a fire that seemed more alien than anything else so far. His mind moved at a pace that I couldn't understand on even the most basic of levels, which became clearer with each passing day. It was fascinating to watch, to soak up, though it eventually left me feeling dejected. The Doctor looked human and even, rarely, acted human, too. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that his lifespan was ten times that of my own.

"How long can a Time Lord live for?" I asked, a small thought nibbling away at me.

"Twenty thousand years, give or take a century, if they look after themselves," his eyes flicked up, "why?"

"A human being usually lives for seventy-nine years. Your lifespan is two hundred and fifty three times that," I said, rather dejectedly. "I did the maths. My entire life is… a blink of your eye."

The Doctor lowered the laptop screen slightly, "yes. When I was your age, I was… a child."

"Not even a teenager?" I was, for some reason, slightly offended.

"At twenty-four?" the Doctor scoffed, "not likely. But, Erin, you're forgetting something."

"I am?" I lifted my head up from where I'd been morosely leaning on my elbow, "what?"

"Comparatively speaking, we're the same age," he grinned, looking boyish once more, "my people consider twenty thousand years to be old age. I'm not even one thousand."

I grinned without meaning to, "oh, my god, you're really young, aren't you? For a Time Lord, I mean. You act all ancient but you're really not!"

"No, no, no," the Doctor insisted, though his claims rang false, "I'm not young! This body is younger than I'm used to, believe me. I'm… middle-aged, sort of."

"Wouldn't ten thousand be middle-aged?"

He frowned at me, "technically, yes. I am the last of my kind, though, so I make the rules now. I'm not young."

"You are, though," I said.

"I'm not young," he insisted.

I hid my smile and allowed him to keep on living his delusions. He wasn't at even half of his expected lifespan yet; definitely not old. Not even approaching old. It wasn't too much of a shock, in all fairness. The Doctor was a young soul. So, he was still old, to me, but for him, he was very, very young. I wondered why he considered himself to be older than he actually was – because of companions, like me, who considered him to be ancient?

He must've married young. Childhood sweethearts, maybe? I was dismayed at the thought, all my joy seeping out though my now-grimacing lips.

"I'm gonna go get a coffee," I made to leave, if only for the excuse of a quiet moment to myself, but the Doctor's hand had latched onto mine before I could do more than stand.

"No," he blurted, seemingly surprised at himself, "this is my treat. I'll get the drinks. Whatever you want!"

"Really?" I asked, hesitant, "you're going to get drinks? Do you even know what they serve here? Have you drunk coffee before?"

"I haven't been around humanity in a while, that doesn't mean I've never lived on Earth before," the Doctor sighed as he stood, flicking me on the forehead as he went, "nine centuries old, Erin. I've done everything there is to be done twice."

He left into the coffee shop and the moment he was gone, I heaved a sigh and let my head drop into my palm. I hated him, because he was so bloody infuriating, but I… liked him, as well, for mostly the same reasons. I'd only known him for four or so days, yet we'd bonded as though we'd known each other for far longer.

Four days and it felt like years. Did nine centuries feel like millennia for the same reasons? Argh, my head hurt.

I brought the laptop screen around to check on the progress; the search the Doctor had set up was scanning the lower-levels of security, grabbing names and running them through a custom facial recognition software. The names and pictures were the only things I could read, as everything else on the screen was written in small circular glyphs, similar to ones I'd seen on the TARDIS. Maybe that was the Doctor's first language? It was very pretty but looked like complete gibberish to me.

My first alien language.

"Cool," I murmured aloud.

Anything else I had yet to say was cut short by the sudden reappearance of the Doctor, who looked panicked.

"You okay?" he asked, coming over to pat down my hair and shoulders. I batted his hands away and he brought them straight back, cupping my cheeks.

"It's finding names," I said, jerking a thumb towards my laptop, "is that your language?"

"Yeah," the Doctor muttered, glancing furtively around, "if anything happens, you run straight to me."

"'If anything happens'- Doctor, are we in danger?"

In response to my question, he let out a nervous laugh and leaned so we were eye-level, "we're always in danger. Weren't you the one who told me that?"

"You're acting weird," I said, "and not your usual weird. What's going on? Have they found us?!"

"Erin," he sighed, thumb slipping across my cheek, "we're close to finding them. Know that I promised to protect you and that… I will keep that promise. They won't take you away from me again."

"From you?" I repeated.

The Doctor smiled, one corner of his mouth tilting up, and then he pressed a kiss to my forehead; platonic, surely, but it was a touching gesture nevertheless. He backed away, wringing his hands together, and said, "the second you get the location. If trouble starts, you grab the laptop and come to me anyway. Keep an eye on your surroundings and don't trust anyone other than me."

I nodded, wondering what had gotten him so spooked, "I promise."

He vanished again, leaving me alone and scared. Something had happened in the coffee shop, certainly, and he wasn't telling me. Probably didn't want to scare me. Idiot.

The screen began flashing again and that caught my interest over any potentially dangerous event with the Doctor; the pictures were live. Moving. They were webcams.

"Oh, Doctor, you genius," I murmured, watching – enthralled – as those webcams started taking snaps of every worker I could see, all of them human, and uploading them online. Search bars went haywire as it searched for a match and I could see the results in seconds.

They were all IT specialists, normal people like me, and every single one of them had a full human past. They weren't aliens, I realised dejectedly. This heinous act had been performed by people of my own kind. I'd been hoping against hope that it hadn't really been humans behind this, that it'd been some shadowy alien figure using them as a mouthpiece, but all the evidence pointed away from that.

I shook the thoughts from my mind and cracked my knuckles together, now typing on the laptop myself. For every name that I saw – Amy Picklewood, John Bradshaw – I searched them online, finding Facebook and Twitter accounts. From there, thanks to their stupidly non-private pages, I went to the only place that would give me the answers that I need. After the fifth person was identified, I knew we'd found the place.

All I had to do now was get the Doctor, which was handy as he'd just left the shop again. He approached me slower than last time, hands limp by his side, and whatever danger that caused him to be hurried before had gone.

"Your program did its job," I told him, excitedly. "I found them!"

"You found them," the Doctor repeated, matching my tone perfectly.

"They're in the Shard," I carried on, standing to go to his side, "floor sixty five."

"Floor sixty five," he said, without blinking.

I prodded at his shoulder, which he completely ignored, and I was starting to get unnerved; had they done something to him? "Doctor, you okay? You're being weirder than before."

"I'm okay," the Doctor told me, "I'm being weirder than before."

I knew what had happened before his head started to turn. I was a fool, and overly trusting, and I was a stupid little girl who should've known better. They used Lewis to get me, why not use the Doctor as well?

The 'Doctor' turned its head until it was completely around, revealing the familiar hollowed out back. A beam came from there the same way it did last time, hitting me with a harsh ferocity, and the scream that came from me was genuine. A blackness surrounded me, taking the coffee shop from view, and I heard a thud that might've been my body hitting the floor but might've not been.

All I knew was I didn't know where I was.

I didn't know where I was.

I didn't know.

I didn't.

* * *

The sky was blue, with clouds moving on at a snail's pace. A warm breeze made itself known, fluttering against my eyelashes as I blinked steadily. My head was resting upon something soft and a bit bony, supported higher than the rest of my body, and there was a tingling sensation all over. It was like when I sleep on my arm and the next day it goes all funny because the blood circulation was cut off for a bit.

A low mumbling could be heard, a one-sided conversation that eluded me, and I was more intrigued by the scent of fresh coffee.

"-a little girl?" came the Doctor's rich voice, "that's it? She could be anyone?"

I blinked the sleep from my eyes, suddenly realising why I could only see half of the sky; I was on the Doctor's lap looking up, and his face – and chin – was above me. He was on my phone, talking to someone in calm tones whilst he sipped from his cup of coffee. I didn't have the energy to talk just then, so I closed my eyes again and was happy to just listen.

"If she's in her fifties, her parents could be long dead. There was no hint of who hired them?"

It was comfy here, stretched out. He must've moved me over to one of those couches that were further in on the roof, instead of our table right on the edge. It was a short couch, with my legs curled up so I could fit, and if I stayed for much longer I'd get a crick in my neck. For now, it was the most divine source of comfort I'd ever felt.

"Well, if they've forgotten everything since they first started working there, it makes sense that she – and everyone else – haven't got a clue what happened. They were taking everyone from plumbers to fast food delivery men and, apparently, lost little girls," there was a grunt of disgust, "I'd say give them all therapy. Those who can lead a normal life again should be helped towards that. Those who… can't, like Miss Kizlet, should be given as comfortable home as possible."

The Doctor brought a hand down and brushed the hair from my cheek. I opened my eyes, catching him off-guard; he stared down, having obviously thought I was still sleeping, and his hand hovered above my skin for a full beat of my heart before he brought it down and smiled.

"Yeah, Kate, I'm here if you need me again. And to you. Bye," he hung up and set the phone down on the table in front of us, next to his coffee cup. Then gave a little sigh and rubbed his eyes, "you're awake."

"Barely," I whispered, throat impossibly dry, "my head feels like a marshmallow."

"You were uploaded again," the Doctor sombrely explained, "I saved you and stopped them. How are you feeling?"

It took me a moment to figure myself out, "dazed. Confused. Glad they're gone. Also a bit thirsty."

That got a laugh out of the Doctor, which was almost worth the painful throat, "you weren't gone for very long. Maybe half an hour. I used the Spoonhead that downloaded you to trick Kizlet – the woman behind all this – into downloading all of the people they'd taken."

"You saved me," I simplified.

The thumb on my cheekbone silently tapped out a beat of four, which felt familiar even though it couldn't be, and there came the response, "they'd uploaded several thousand people. More than even I could count in one glimpse of the screen. Only those recently uploaded could be returned back into their bodies… the rest died."

"Better to die free than to live a slave," I said, "I got that from a movie. Can't remember the name."

"Erin..." he breathed out my name, "I let those people die because I viewed..."

The Doctor stopped before finishing his sentence, breathing in sharply through his nose.

"Because?" I questioned gently, when it seemed like he wouldn't continue.

"I'm not losing anyone else I care about. You… were right. Earlier." He coughed and made to avoid eye contact, "when we argued last night?"

"Oh."

"I let death rule my life. Let my fear of it guide my steps. Run from my grief so I'll never have to confront it. I… I want you to know that I don't regret saving your life. I never could."

There weren't enough words in the human language that would allow me to comfort him properly in that moment. The Doctor was a raw wound, a lost soul bared to the universe, and I wondered if – over the nine centuries of travel he'd already gone through – he'd ever confessed such sentiment before.

A yelp of protest left my throat when, suddenly, two arms wrapped themselves around my waist and hoisted me upwards. I was now sat full-on in the Doctor's lap, wrapped up tight in a hug.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered into my neck.

"So did I," I admitted.

* * *

Our afternoon was spent in London; we visited the sights and, when that grew boring, the Doctor took me on his very own 'alien invasion' tour. We went from the gates of Number 10 to an alley behind an Indian take-away where the Doctor had once stopped a race known as the Pykotharol from kidnapping Princess Anne.

We ate lunch out and discussing my childhood – what did I do after Cooper was adopted, did I ever resent my parents for how they treated me, who was my first kiss and was he any good (he wasn't). It was the most normal day I'd had in recent memory, and the Doctor's presence didn't change that. He was on his best behaviour, strangely enough, and didn't complain once when I commandeered the Triumph from him and rode it home.

Cooper greeted us outside the TARDIS, still in his school clothes, and he instinctively knew something had happened from the second we turned the corner.

"You were attacked by aliens again," he said, in lieu of a proper greeting.

"' _Hello Erin, lovely sister, and hello Doctor, my lovely sister's friend, how nice to see you_ '," I mocked.

"And they were actually humans," the Doctor corrected, taking off his helmet and immediately fixing his hair. He cared more about his hair than I did mine.

"Possessed humans," I said, "were you waiting for us?"

"My sister and her alien boyfriend ran off to confront possessed humans who sent a plane dive bombing at our house," Cooper slowly drawled, "forgive me for making sure you were okay."

"We aren't-" I huffed a sigh and resigned myself to ignore any more comments about my non-existent relationship with the Doctor, "thanks, Coop. I'm fine, really. Nothing happened."

The Doctor coughed rather audibly and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "that's not the truth."

"So something did happen?" Cooper asked, panicked.

"Telltale," I scolded the Doctor, "he didn't need to know! I'm fine!"

"Erin's mind was uploaded again but I managed to save her. The people behind it were stopped. Hurray."

Cooper turned disbelieving eyes on me, "you call that 'nothing'?"

"Well… I'm fine now. I didn't want to worry you." I stepped forward, pulling him into a hug. "Sorry, little bro."

I was grateful he was still slightly shorter than I was, even if he'd would likely outgrow me by the time he was eighteen. Cooper accepted the hug instead of evading me, arms tighter than they'd been in months. We'd grown apart after I moved out, after Lewis' death, and that was something I'd always regret. Maybe now I had the chance to fix it.

"Coop..." I began, as gently as possible, "there's something I need to tell you. About mum and dad."

He moved away, frowning in the same way I did. We might not be related by blood, but we were the very definition of the word 'siblings'. "What is it?"

"They're..." I took in a deep breath to calm my nerves, "they're getting a divorce. That's why they're barely around each other anymore. They didn't want you to know but- I- I couldn't lie to you, Coop."

Cooper let out an unstable gasp, tears shooting into his eyes, "why?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "they won't say. I tried talking to the both of them but… it's no use. They're set on this."

He leaned back into the TARDIS with a thud, wiping his hand over his face. His chest quivered with the force of his sadness and my heart ached for my little brother; what could I do? I'd always been strong for the both of us but this wasn't something I could fix with a quick game of footie and a milkshake. This was our parents divorcing.

"How long have you known?" Cooper asked, "I'm not angry… I just want to know."

"Two weeks, I think. It's… it's hard to know definitely with the TARDIS. Time gets messed up a bit onboard." I made my way next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, letting Coop lean into me, "they still love us, Coop. They just… don't love each other anymore. They think it's better to be happy apart than miserable together."

"No… no..." He waved a hand, "I'm not… I know they've not been happy for years. We both have. I just can't believe they didn't want me to know. Did they think I'd just ignore the arguing? The cold silences? The fact that they haven't been in the same room as one another for two months?"

"Cooper," began the Doctor, causing us both to look over him in surprise, "I don't know your parents. I can't speak for them. From everything I've heard from your sister, I'm not sure I'd like them if I did meet them. But I was a father once, so I do know why they didn't tell you. They're hurting each other, in so much pain they can't cope most days. They don't want that for you. You're a child, their child, and all a good parent wants for their child is happiness."

Cooper stared up at him, eyes red, and I was worried about his reply until he gulped heavily and mumbled, "thanks."

I gave him another hug and stayed there for a while, content to let my brother express his grief. I'd mostly worked through it, with some help from the Doctor, so I focused mostly on Cooper. He needed it more than I.

The Doctor's eyes met mine over Cooper's shoulder, and even I couldn't ignore the parallel to last night. This time, however, he gave me a reassuring smile, standing still on the spot. It meant more to me than I'd admit.

"Dad's coming over for dinner," I suddenly remembered, pulling away to dry Coop's cheeks, "we can talk about it with him there. I'll even yell at him if you want."

Cooper laughed, "you yelling is always fun. S'long as it's at other people."

"I have another idea," the Doctor said.

We glanced over at the same time, shared a questioning look and a non-verbal agreement, so I said, "go on."

"Your father is coming for dinner, yes," he casually strolled over to the TARDIS, unlocking the doors with a click of his fingers, "but this evening can be as far away as you want it to be. I do have a time machine and… if you're anything like your sister, Cooper, I'd be glad to have you aboard."

"Really?" Cooper asked. He looked hopeful and far happier than he had done thirty seconds earlier, though I was still hesitant.

"It's dangerous, what we do," I pointed out, "you said so yourself."

"My life isn't ruled by death," the Doctor threw my words back at me, "and I won't take Cooper anywhere dangerous. It'll just be a nice, calm trip."

Cooper opened his mouth, seemingly eager to say yes, yet nothing came out. Instead, he looked to me for my approval, which I was forced to give. I couldn't say no and ruin his hopes, could I?

"Cooper can come with us," I decided, being sucked into Cooper's whoop of happiness and grinning myself, "but if anything happens-"

My warning was waved off by the Doctor, "I know better than to make you angry."

We traipsed into the TARDIS after him, with Cooper letting out a gasp immediately. I knew why, recalling my own experience days ago, and was content to watch him along with the Doctor.

"It really is bigger on the inside," said Cooper, who slowly approached the console whilst his head twisted around in an effort to look everywhere at once, "I mean, you said it was, but- wow!"

"It's trans-dimensional," I explained, as the Doctor began piloting us away from my childhood home, "basically, the outside of the TARDIS is in our dimension, but the inside is a different one."

"Why the police box, though?" came the next question.

"Faulty circuits." I brought him up to the console with me and shared a grin with the Doctor, who was content to let me take charge, "basically, when the TARDIS lands somewhere it's supposed to take on the appearance of something in the environment to blend in. Only, the Doctor's TARDIS doesn't work properly and it got stuck as a police box from the '60s."

This time, the look Cooper sent me was more dubious, "we're in a broken time machine?"

"Oi!" the Doctor protested, rubbing the time rotor protectively, "mind who you're calling 'broken'! The TARDIS works perfectly fine, most of the time. It's just her chameleon circuit that's a bit wonky… and her navigation circuit… and the stabilisers on deck fifteen don't work so if you go on that floor you can feel every bump in the time vortex… but other than those things – and a few others – she's a brilliant ship!"

"Why's the console so big if you're the only pilot?" Cooper asked this as he moved one of the levers next to the Doctor; he received an exasperated grunt before the Doctor moved it back again.

"It's meant to have six pilots," he explained, "but with just me, it tends to get a bit bumpy."

"A 'bit?" I repeated, incredulous. "You need a safety harness on this thing!"

To demonstrate my point, the TARDIS rocked suddenly and sent us all flying. Cooper skidded along the glass floor and managed to catch himself on the railing at the last minute; I careened into the Doctor and ended up clinging onto his tweed jacket for the life of me.

I glared up at him and he gave me a casual half-smile, "maybe it's slightly more turbulent than I admitted to. It's part of the fun!"

Retreating with a huff to sit down on the passenger's seat, I turned my attention over to Cooper, who was now investigating the lower area beneath the console platform; I'd been down there once, with nothing catching my attention. The Doctor was right – the chaotic TARDIS was part of the experience – yet I still wasn't happy.

If anything happened to Cooper, I probably couldn't live with myself. I'd willingly give up my life for his in a heartbeat… I just had to hope it wouldn't come to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews! Please keep them coming, as they really help motivate me!


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aboard the Byzantium we go...

My baby brother aboard the TARDIS was a worry. My baby brother aboard the TARDIS in flight was even more worrisome. My baby brother aboard the TARDIS as it responded to a distress signal sent out by a crashing ship?

Heart attack inducing.

“Full mauve alert, crew of four thousand,” lights blared on the TARDIS, alarm bells ringing as the Doctor fell around the console in an effort to pilot it, “I- I don’t- what – it’s headed straight for – what are you _doing_?!”

Sparks flew from the console as the bells tolled louder; I grabbed Cooper and threw him to the ground, backing us both up against the railing. I’d never seen the TARDIS like this before, panic clogging up my throat.

“Why would you- argh, that’s stupid! You’re stupid! A stupid piece of outdated Gallifreyan-” another explosion came from the TARDIS, a few of the lights popping in the ceiling, “I mean, a lovely young thing that was sent to the rubbish heap too early in life!”

Finally, things settled; the calm startling to my overworked senses.

“There we go,” the Doctor encouraged, patting the scanner comfortingly, “all calmed down now, okay?”

“What’s wrong with the TARDIS?” I asked, feeling secure enough to stand.

“The crashed ship – the Byzantium – is carrying cargo the TARDIS doesn’t approve of,” he told me, still focused on the Gallifreyan symbols popping up on the screen, “an anomaly centred around the hold.”

I tried to figure out a few details on the scanner, if only to ease my nerves, “what kind of anomaly?”

“The kind that’s anomalous,” he said.

“ _Doctor_!” My glare came moments before we were thrown about again, a deep rumble emanating from the time rotor. I skidded along the glass floor until Cooper caught me, securing us to the console.

When we landed, the Doctor shot off towards the doors without a backwards glance. We followed, because what else _would_ we do, and exited after him onto… an alien planet? We were on a beach, with normal-looking water that lapped at our feet, with more rocks than sand. Rain pelted down hard, soaking us within a few seconds, but none of that was really important.

In front of us, maybe a hundred feet or so away, was a huge decrepit temple. It was several stories high with pillars holding up balconies, statues cut into the stone of huge people with two heads, arms spread out towards the ocean. And, crashed into the roof of the building and giving off huge waves of fire and heat, was the Byzantium.

A fireball like nothing I’d witnessed before; it was incomprehensibly massive, so hot I could feel it from here, the rain leaving tiny little dots of coolness on my skin.

“Were there survivors?” I wondered, recalling how the Doctor had mentioned four thousand passengers.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor admitted. He seemed solemn, quiet, and – more than anything else – full of sorrow. I knew then, without asking, that he was lying; the passengers _were_ dead.

Over my shoulder, I noticed Cooper gulp heavily. Sharing a glance, I silently regretted letting him come along. His first sight upon leaving the TARDIS was _not_ supposed to be the joint grave of four thousand people.

“Where are we?”

“Alfava Metraxis, the seventh planet of the Dundra System in the Garn Belt,” the Doctor rattled off the facts of where we were like he hadn’t just told me that we were on an _alien planet_. “Perfect for humans, so no worry for you two.”

“Alien world on my first go,” Cooper laughed to himself, “you never had this luck, Erin.”

“I wouldn’t trade my first time with the Doctor for anything.”

After receiving two identical looks from both my brother and my… travelling companion, I rolled my eyes, “boys, get your heads out of the gutter. I meant; my first _trip_.”

“You didn’t say trip,” Cooper said.

“I meant-”

“Shush,” the Doctor waved a hand, storming towards the ship.

As we got closer, I saw what had gotten him so excited; a contingent of soldiers had set up in a cave set into the cliff below the temple, with tents and maps set out. They were all human, though, which was more than just a surprise.

When the Doctor strode into the camp, every single soldier stood and took note. No guns were pointed at us, more of a relief than I could ever express, but a murmur did go through them. They knew who he was, alright.

“Where’s your commander?” he demanded of the nearest one.

“Father Octavian’s in the tent,” said a boy – he looked _far_ too young to be carrying such a large gun, “I’ll call- Father Octavian!”

For some reason, the Doctor’s mere presence in the camp was enough to draw a crowd; twenty or so faces peering at us curiously. I say ‘ _us_ ’ but Cooper and I were ignored completely. All eyes were on the Doctor.

“Do they know you?” I asked of the Doctor.

“That soldier said _Father_ , which means they’re with the Church. And the 51st century Church and I have had a few… arguments, over the years.”

“Wait,” Cooper ducked his head between us, glancing at the Doctor uncertainly, “you’re telling me that the Church becomes an _army_? I knew it.”

“You knew that the Church of the Papal Mainframe would become a large military force in the late 49th century and would continue that for the next two centuries?” the Doctor laughed to himself, “Erin, you’re not the only-”

“Doctor!”

The man I assumed to be Father Octavian joined us, looking harried. He seemed to be mildly in awe that the Doctor was actually here, “we didn’t know you’d be arriving.”

“I’d be a poor time traveller if I called ahead,” the Doctor had straightened up, a miniscule difference that only I noticed, “the Byzantium – what happened to it?”

“The warp engines experienced a phase shift,” Father Octavian explained, “Doctor, might I ask why you’re here?”

The Doctor’s mouth drew into a snarky smirk, as if they were sharing a friendly joke, “Father Octavian, you _know_ why I’m here. There’s something in the belly of that ship and I want to know what it is. Now.”

“Doctor, this is a classified mission-”

“The Weeping Angels,” spoke up a new person, from the entrance to the command tent, “are a race that come from the dawn of our universe. They’re kind killers, usually, because when they murder you, they send you back in time to live out your life in peace.”

When he walked forwards, I was immediately hit by a sense of deja vu; like I’d seem him somewhere before. The man wore an all-black tight fitting combat suit, with various knives and bags attached to him, and the most curious feature of them all was the mask that hid everything from his cheekbones down.

“There was an Angel in the Byzantium’s hold,” he finished, softly.

The Doctor cursed lowly under his breath, hand running through his hair, “that’s what you’re after?”

Father Octavian sighed to himself, “Doctor, this is _still_ a classified mission.”

“Father, do you honestly think your chances would be better off without me?”

Silence reigned for a few moments as Father Octavian considered his options; it was broken when he waved us over to the command tent, with the man in black accompanying us. “Far as we know, the Angel is still trapped inside the ship, our mission is to get inside and neutralise it. We can’t get through the top, as we’d be too close to the drives.”

“Radiation would kill us all in a heartbeat,” the man said, “unless you were a Time Lord.”

 _That_ got my attention. Everyone else seemed downright awed by the Doctor; he… seemed to disagree with that opinion. He also seemed to really dislike the Doctor.

“It’ll just kill me in two heartbeats,” the Doctor replied.

The man smiled mysteriously as we entered the command tent, where a thick table was set up; above it, projected in a soft blue light, was a hologram representation of the Byzantium with a few layers of tunnels below.

“We’ll blow through the cliff face and into the catacombs that lead right up to the temple – we can make our way up to the ship through those.”

“Dark catacombs?” Cooper wrinkled his nose, “ _great_.”

“It won’t be much better when we leave them,” the man said, “’cause then we’ll be on a ship that could explode at any moment with a Weeping Angel.”

Cooper glanced at the handgun strapped to the man’s thigh, “can’t you just shoot it?”

A quiet laugh escaped the man, “Weeping Angels turn into statues when you’re looking at them. Shooting a statue doesn’t do much good.”

“Then,” I cautiously looked between the Doctor and Father Octavian, “how do we stop it?”

“Weeping Angels quantum lock themselves when witnessed by a living being,” the Doctor carried on the explanation, studying the map of the catacombs, “they literally cease to be when your eyes are on them. So, Father Octavian, how _do_ you plan on stopping it?”

Father Octavian didn’t look like he appreciated the Doctor’s tone, “by overloading the Byzantium’s drive core. Fifty years ago a Weeping Angel was destroyed when another galaxy-class cruiser crashed into it. The Byzantium is the same class of ship, with a more powerful engine.”

“Wait,” I had found the flaw in their plan, “we’re climbing into the Byzantium – if we blow it up, we’ll all die too. It’s a suicide mission.”

“Oh, no, my first trip isn’t going to be a suicide mission!” Cooper shook his head rapidly.

“Brother Kaleb has already thought of a way out,” Father Octavian nodded over to the man in black, who, oddly, looked annoyed to have his name revealed.

“Remote teleportation to the local human colony,” Brother Kaleb said, “only enough room for a few troops, so some will be left behind… if the Angel doesn’t get them first.”

I stared at him with a mildly unenthusiastic expression, “sounds wonderful.”

*

The next few hours were spent co-ordinating the mission; who would go in, who would go back to the Church ship waiting in orbit, who would be left behind on the Byzantium if we were successful, who would be taken to safety. It all made my head spin for various reasons, though not as much as it would’ve done a week ago.

Cooper, on the other hand, didn’t react at all like I’d expected. Four thousand people had just died and now we’d learned of a killer statue dressed like an angel and he was taking it all in his stride. In fact, he was currently sharing hot chocolate – which was apparently required on _all_ Church missions – with some of the clerics.

“He’s just like you,” the Doctor said.

“How?”

We were stood a way aways from the others, at a table filled with all the information gathered about the Angels; I’d stopped reading over the Doctor’s shoulders a while ago, finding the brutal tales of being trapped a hundred years in the past a _bit_ too disconcerting.

“You’re both adaptable,” he told me, nose stuffed in a book.

“He’s fifteen,” I said, “he shouldn’t even be here.”

“You could both leave whenever you want, just pop in the TARDIS and activate Emergency Protocol One,” the Doctor peered over the top of the book to give me an attempt at a raised eyebrow, “which you _should_ do.”

“I’m not leaving you to face that thing alone,” I insisted.

I was rewarded with a smile I’d never seen off him before; sort of toothy and warm in a way that made my stomach tingle. It was all nice until the Doctor decided to speak again, “you’re more alike than you want to admit.”

“He’s sporty, I’m artistic, I’m the daughter of second-generation Welsh-Chinese immigrants, his birth parents were from Nigeria, I can speak four different languages, he can _barely_ muster up the proper ‘ _your_ ’ when texting,” I listed each of these things off as the Doctor grew more and more amused.

“Welsh?” was his only question.

“I lived in Cardiff ‘til I was seven. Welsh is one of those four languages I can speak.”

The Doctor seemed positively intrigued, “and the others are?”

“Not important with the universe’s deadliest angel out to get us,” I pointed out.

“True,” the Doctor said, smile sliding off his face.

“I don’t like this plan of theirs,” I whispered, “overloading the drive core? Will that even work?”

“It will, but not in the way they expect,” the Doctor tapped one of the photos of an Angel knowingly, “Angels feed off of radiation – that’s why they send you back in time. You live out all of your years in the past and they feast on the residual chronon energy.”

I understood what he was telling me was very important, I just didn’t understand _what_ he was telling me. “Chronon energy?”

“Time energy,” he simplified, “your entire life is already spread out in front of you – including all of the different possibilities. The Angels send you back a century and all those futures cease to exist, with the chronon energy still there. Angels eat it, they become stronger, send their next victim even further back in time. Happened to me, once, in my last body. I ended up stuck in 1969 with Martha for three months. Had to work in a chippy.”

“Doctor,” I prodded, “Angels feed off radiation?”

“Ah, yes… erm, Angels usually just eat chronon energy _but_ , if there’s none around, they’ll eat normal-ish radiation, too. Now, with a ship like the Byzantium, the hyperdrive would’ve split on impact – right now, the entire place is flooded with drive burn radiation, cracked electrons, gravity storms. Death-inducing for us, a scrumptious feast for a single Weeping Angel.”

“This just gets better and better...”

“ _However_ ,” he quickly carried on, “the explosion of the hyperdrive – and the Byzantium – will be too much for the Angel. It’ll gorge itself to death.”

I gave him a very serious, unamused look, “we’re going to _feed_ the Angel ‘til it dies? Death by radiation poisoning?”

“If in the same vain as ‘ _death by chocolate_ ’, then yes.”

The laugh that escaped me was loud enough to capture Cooper’s attention, who echoed it back in the same way. If we weren’t on an alien planet surrounded by Clerics, I would’ve thrown something at his head. As it was, I just pulled my tongue at him.

When I turned back, I caught the last few seconds of a somewhat… _sappy_ expression of the Doctor’s. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?!”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “I was just… thinking about Brother Kaleb.”

I didn’t believe him, which he knew, but I let it slide, “what about Brother Kaleb?”

“I don’t trust him,” the Doctor said, “he’s hiding something.”

“You don’t trust anyone _and_ he’s barely said more than five sentences around you.”

“I trust you,” he said.

I smiled, “and I trust you. The point still stands, though.”

“After almost a thousand years of travelling through time and space, I know a trustworthy person when I meet them. I knew it with you, I knew it with Cooper, and I knew it with almost all of my companions before you two,” the Doctor nodded to where Brother Kaleb was talking with Father Octavian, “and that man is hiding something.”

Following his gaze, I tried to see what the Doctor did. He was right, in a way; there was a certain _something_ about Brother Kaleb. A familiarity in the back of my mind that kept scratching away… “I keep thinking I know him. Like, he’s got a face that I know – which is ridiculous, because he covers half of it. Why?”

“They call him ‘ _Brother_ ’ - in the Church, that’s sort of… special forces. He gets sent on the toughest and hardest missions,” he gestured towards the photo of the Angel again, “like this, for example.”

“The toughest and hardest missions… he needs to keep his identity hidden?”

At the Doctor’s nod, I was hit by empathy for Brother Kaleb; mustn’t be easy, living his life without ever letting someone see who he _really_ was. A bit like the Doctor.

The floor began rumbling beneath our feet, great vibrations that moved all the up to the roof, before a large _boom_ came from further on in the cave; smoke began to rise in the distance and soldiers began scurrying equipment back and forth.

“We’re off,” the Doctor winked before joining Father Octavian.

Ignoring the two of them for now, I caught Cooper’s eye and beckoned him over; with a roll of his eyes, he crossed the space.

“Erin-”

“You’re _not_ staying,” I informed him.

“Erin-”

“It’s way too dangerous. You’re only fifteen, Coop; most of these people are trained soldiers and they think they’re all going to die,” crossing my arms, I levelled on him the most commanding stare possible, “the TARDIS is safer for you.”

My little brother sighed quietly, still in his Coal Hill school uniform, and began to speak softer than I ever thought was possible, “Erin, I’m not leaving you to face that thing alone.”

_You’re more alike than you want to admit._

Damn him. Damn the Doctor. Damn his stupid bow tie, too.

“Alright, fine, but you listen to what Father Octavian says, you _don’t_ wander off, and if that Angel comes after us, you run like hell and forget about me.”

“Okay,” he said, like it was no big deal.

“Okay?” I uncertainly parroted back. It wasn’t normal for Cooper to agree so easily. “Um, they’re moving into the catacombs now.”

Shaking my head in an effort to clear it, we approached where the Doctor, Father Octavian and Brother Kaleb were ‘discussing’ the plan of action.

“It’s risky to take civilians on such a dangerous mission,” Father Octavian spoke as we reached their side, “they could be a liability.”

“Erin’s not a liability,” the Doctor said, exasperated, “she’s already saved my life twice.”

“And the boy?”

Simultaneously, we gazed at Cooper.

“What?” he asked, defensively.

“He’s still a child,” said Father Octavian, “I don’t like bringing him with us.”

“Neither do I,” the Doctor began, “but Erin’s responsible for him. It’s her decision.”

Simultaneously, they gazed at me.

“I...” it was unnerving, to have them all staring at me with such intensity, “well… Cooper’s my baby brother, so I’ll protect him with everything I have. He won’t put us at a disadvantage, I swear.”

Father Octavian studied me for a moment, “Brother Kaleb vouched for you. I’ll trust his judgement.”

He left, then, to join his men at the entrance to the catacombs, leaving two very puzzled humans and one 6” tall jumble of Gallifreyan anxiety.

“You vouched for me?” I asked, trying to catch Brother Kaleb’s evading eyes.

“From what I’ve heard of the Doctor, he chooses his companions with great care,” Brother Kaleb nodded towards the entrance, “come on. The Angel is only gaining in strength.”

“He doesn’t just pick his _companions_ with care,” Cooper chatted, “he picks his companion’s younger brothers with care, too. You know, a plane almost crashed into our house? ‘Cause of the WiFi? Do you have WiFi in the 51 st century?”

“We have an advanced form of it that spans the known and settled universe,” Brother Kaleb answered, “but Wi-Fi as _you_ know it died off about the same time as the second colony was set up on Mars. They found Martian ruins with advanced alien tech. Changed everything about it.”

I hadn’t even _thought_ of this stuff when I was on Starship UK, “do we still call it Wi-Fi?”

“Yeah.”

As we approached the entrance, which consisted of a hole in the ground with a ladder that led to darkness, two clerics were offering masks – made of a clear glass-like structure that let us read lips – and a shot in the arm.

“What’s this for?” I asked, never too fond of needles.

“Masks for the disease, shots for protection against radiation,” the Doctor rattled off, accepting both his shot and mask with little to no fuss.

Cooper and I, on the other hand, had different ideas.

“Disease?!” Cooper asked, so loud his voice broke halfway through.

“The Aplans – who built this temple and originally evolved on this planet – died out four centuries ago, from an outbreak of Petrifold Regression,” Brother Kaleb explained, accepting his shot with only a minor flinch, “it’s incurable, so once it started spreading there was nothing anyone could do.”

Father Octavian carried the history lesson on, passing out handheld torches to us, “law dictates that we leave a century to allow planets to decontaminate after an extinction event like this. We gave it two hundred years and created a human colony, with a population of six billion.”

“You humans really do get bored easily, don’t you?” the Doctor asked.

“Wait, if this stuff is incurable – we catch it, we die?” I glanced uncertainly at the Doctor, “the catacombs might still have it in the air, if they haven’t been touched in four hundred years.”

“That’s why half the clerics are staying here,” Father Octavian nodded towards his soldiers, “they’re decontaminating the area and sealing it behind us. The colony won’t die from Petrifold Regression, I can assure you.”

“It’s transmitted through the air,” the Doctor reassured, taking one of the masks and gently fitting it over my mouth and nose, “this’ll filter what you breathe. Long as you keep it on, you’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t protect us from the killer statue though, does it?” Cooper mulishly asked.

The descent into darkness wasn’t particularly fun; it was a twenty foot drop, only lit up by the torch above me, and the sides of the tunnel pressed into me at all times. When I reached the bottom, Cooper helping me off the ladder, I was met by a gloomy cavern – the hairs on the back of my neck rose up, a childhood fear of the dark coming back in full force. This was different from the Star Whale’s mouth… here I felt vulnerable.

“Bit darker than I was hoping,” the Doctor said, “do we have a gravity globe?”

“Grav globe!” ordered Father Octavian; at his word, a young cleric – the same one who’d originally spoken when we’d arrived – stepped up, handing over a large spherical device over to the Doctor.

“Are these the catacombs?” questioned Cooper, trying to use his flashlight to pierce the all-consuming darkness.

“Technically, it’s a Maze of the Dead,” came Brother Kaleb’s answer, “the traditional name is an Aplan Mortarium – the majority of them were built over seven centuries ago. This one is closer to a millennia. Rare.”

The Doctor took their conversation as a cue to light us all up; he kicked the grav globe into the air, where it stalled for a moment before shooting up above us, illuminated like a little artificial sun. The Maze was revealed to us, though I’d rather it stayed hidden.

It reached up for another five levels, not including the one we were on, with twisting stairways covered in cobwebs and dust. Stone caskets lined the walls, only occasionally, with the majority of them being made up entirely of shelves of bones, or just skulls piled up on each other. And, on every available flat surface, clustered in the hundreds, were stone statues. All around us, decayed and fragmented, with missing arms, legs, the odd head.

“Shit,” said Brother Kaleb.

“We’re looking for the Angel in all those statues?” Father Octavian asked.

“Statuary,” the Doctor corrected.

Father Octavian did a double take, “ _what_?”

“When you look at a group of statues collectively, you use the noun _statuary_ ,” the Doctor gestured to the _statuary_ around us, “you go to the art gallery, say to Pastor John; _‘oh, isn’t the statuary lovely_ ’.”

“Is this… really the time, Doctor?”

“I suppose not, no,” with a grumble, the Doctor flicked his torch back to the nearest group of statuary, “it’s the perfect hiding place.”

“B-but the Angel is still on the Byzantium, right?” Cooper approached a statue and shined his light up one decayed nostril, “it can’t be here.”

“Well, if the Angels are only stopped when someone’s looking at them, and everyone on the Byzantium died during the crash,” I gulped heavily, “then, well… the Angel could be heading towards us right now.”

Cooper glared at me over his shoulder, “the next time one of your boyfriends invites me on a trip, I’m telling him to smeg off. First Alton Towers, then this.”

“It wasn’t Lewis’ fault you threw up on the loop-de-loop.”

“The one advantage we have is that the Angel doesn’t look like these… like the statuary,” Brother Kaleb pointed up to where the grav globe was casting shadows on all six layers, “we’ll have to go up. Keep an eye on the perimeter. Do _not_ trust the shadows.”

“Right,” Father Octavian beckoned towards his men, “check _every_ statue in this chamber. You know what you’re looking for. Complete visual inspection.”

I never thought I could be so terrified over a statue.

The Maze itself was incredibly creepy; everywhere I looked, statuary stared back. The renderings of women reminded me of a decaying corpse, with the same rotting smell. I stuck behind the Doctor and Father Octavian, the ‘leaders’ of our suicide mission, knowing that I’d be little help if we found the Angel.

When we find the Angel.

“Sir!” called a cleric, “side chamber!”

Father Octavian glanced over, inspecting his troops, “take Angelo and check it out. Keep in radio contact at all times. Catch up to us once you’re done; we’re moving out now.”

“Splitting up always goes well,” I murmured.

“Every soul on this mission knows what they signed up for,” Brother Kaleb said.

At first, I was surprised that he’d chosen to speak to me. He didn’t exactly seem the _friendliest_. Then again, I hardly knew him. “There’s a killer statue on the loose. Sticking together would be safer.”

Brother Kaleb fell back slightly, so we were walking at the same pace, “maybe so, Mrs Wilson, but the decision is Father Octavian’s.”

“I’m not one of his men, Brother Kaleb, and I’m sure free speech is still around,” I turned my gaze to the nearest statue, “also, I’m not married.”

That, for some reason, made Brother Kaleb stumble on his next step.

“So,” Cooper hopped up to the Doctor’s side, “this is an _Aplan_ Maze of the Dead. Who, um, who were they?”

“Some of the greatest builders this side of the Garn Belt,” the Doctor pointed upwards, to where the grav globe was hovering, “there’s a reason why the Byzantium hasn’t squashed us all like tiny, culturally diverse ants. This entire place is a marvel of engineering.”

“You talk about the Aplans like you’ve met them,” Cooper said, sounding unsure.

The Doctor brushed off my brother’s lack of certainty like it was lint on his shoulder, “of course, I’ve met them. Had dinner with their Chief Architect, once, ‘bout three centuries back. Amazing fellow.”

“But Father Octavian said they’d been wiped out for four centuries.”

“And you were born two thousand and ninety-nine years ago,” the Doctor grinned to himself, “time travel, Cooper, allows the dead to live past their allotted years.”

Stopping still, Cooper stared after the Doctor in open shock, “I’m almost three _thousand_ years old?”

“No,” I said, pushing him forwards, “you’re fifteen years old. If you were almost three thousand years old, you’d be a pile of really smelly, dirty bones.”

“I’m like Jesus,” Cooper said, faintly, “a black, non-Jewish, beardless Jesus.”

“What am I, then?”

“Three thousand and eight years old,” answered the Doctor.

My upper lip curled back in mild disgust, “that age difference just got switched around.”

We came to a bottleneck chamber, a small tunnel exiting out to a ritualistic altar flanked by more broken statuary. The dust was so thick in the air that I could smell it, like an old bookshop, thick layers on every surface. After a few moments of staring, I realised that the walls were made of skeletons – hands and legs crossed from a few hundred different corpses.

For me, it was harder to look at the little skeletons.

“There’s too many skulls,” I said, disjointed to the rest of my mind, “for every body, there’s two skulls. Is that part of their religion?”

“No, it’s part of their biology,” Brother Kaleb picked up one of the fallen skulls from the floor, dusting off front, “Aplans had two heads, with separate personalities.”

I took another look at the skeletons, but it proved too much; the empty eyeholes of the smallest skulls seemed to burrow deep in my head. I was staring at a mass grave. The entire Maze was just hundreds of bodies, of souls, resting together. How many people was I stood over, just at this moment? All of those lives, with love, and heartbreak, and stubbed toes, all gone.

I thought I understood death. I thought, after Lewis, I could cope with it.

I was wrong.

“Stop thinking about it,” whispered the Doctor, right down my ear.

“I _can’t_.”

“Erin, you’ve moved on from death before. Your fiancé, your pet tortoise; you’ve grieved before,” a hand gripped my waist and turned me away from the wall. I was confronted by the sight of his shirt buttons and bow tie. “Push it out of your head.”

I tried to do what he instructed; focusing on the maroon fabric of his bow tie, I stared at it in stony silence until the buzzing in my head calmed down. The others, Cooper and Brother Kaleb, barely noticed us in the quiet embrace that the Doctor had somehow gotten me into, but _I_ noticed.

Pulling away, I managed to bring myself to meet his gaze, “how did you know I had a pet tortoise?”

“Saw the grave at your house,” the Doctor said, easy enough, “fresh flowers.”

“Speedy was my best friend for twelve years,” I snapped, “and he was a family pet – my grandmother had him before me.”

“Erin,” he sing-songed, “calm down.”

“We’re standing on the graves of a few hundred children, forgive me if I have a crisis.”

“Now isn’t the time,” he instructed, “that Angel could be around the next corner. I won’t allow you to die here.”

I opened my mouth to argue back, annoyed with the _allowing_ , only to duck to the ground as a burst of gunfire ricocheted from the other side of the room. We all scattered, certain that the Angel had come for us, when the first cleric we met spoke up.

“Sorry, sorry, I thought-” he pointed at the nearest statue, “I thought it looked at me.”

Father Octavian, with anger I hadn’t thought him capable of, wrenched the gun away from him, “we _know_ what the Angel looks like. Is that the Angel?”

“N-no, sir.”

“No, sir, it is not,” mocked Father Octavian – I decided there and then he was a dick, “according to the Doctor, we are facing an enemy of unknowable power and infinite evil, so it would be good – it would be _very_ good – if we could all remain calm in the presence of _décor_.”

Silence reigned after the first few moments, the ripples of Father Octavian’s belittling speech making their way to each individual; I spotted Cooper, ready and willing to say something stupid, but before he could, the Doctor stepped up.

I knew he was angry, everyone knew, though the reason behind it was subject to debate. It was either because Father Octavian used his information to whittle down the cleric’s self-confidence, or just because the Doctor disliked bullies.

“What’s your name?” he asked the cleric, an arm ‘round his shoulders.

“Um, Bob, sir.”

“Don’t call me ‘ _sir_ ’, eh? You’re a higher rank than I am,” the Doctor punched Bob in the arm, “it’s a great name, that is, _Bob_. Always love a Bob. Bob Marley. Bob Cryer. Bob the Builder. Bob Babybell.”

“It’s a Sacred Name,” Father Octavian informed us, annoyance quite clear, “we all have Sacred Names. They’re given to us in the service of the Church.”

“Sacred Bob,” the Doctor joked, “more like Scared Bob now, eh?”

“Y-yes, s- yes, Doctor,” Cleric Bob admitted this with a quick glance at Father Octavian.

“Good. Scared makes you quick. Anyone who isn’t scared in this room is a moron.”

The Doctor’s no-nonsense response had us all blinking in shared shock – most of all it was a slap in the face to Father Octavian.

“Cleric Bob,” he began, solely to remind the Doctor just _who_ was in charge, “regroup with Christian and Angelo, stay with them to guard our six. Go!”

Cleric Bob, with one last glance at the Doctor, carried out his orders, running off back into the Maze. I watched him go, wondering if I’d ever see him again.

“C’mon,” Cooper said, tugging on my elbow, “we’re moving on.”

He was right, I noticed; Father Octavian, Brother Kaleb and the clerics had started up to the next level, with the Doctor following at a sedated pace. He was inspecting the statuary, sonicing each one as he passed.

“You doing okay?” I asked, brushing some of the dust from his curls.

“Glad I’m fit with all this climbing,” Cooper looked up to where the Maze hung over our heads, “guess those two heads did the Aplans some good.”

We began to walk, picking our steps carefully through the scattered finger bones and discarded skull fragments. I was paranoid of the statuary’s empty eyeholes, which made me think they were watching us. Cleric Bob’s fears weren’t so silly, now.

“Imagine having _two_ heads,” I said, “sharing your body with a whole other person.”

“It’s not like it’s the most alien concept ever. Conjoined twins exist back on-” Cooper randomly laughed, “we’re actually on an alien planet. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“You’re not _tagging along_ ,” I gently corrected, “the Doctor invited you along. That makes us both his companions.”

“And you’re not at all angry that I’m here?”

“I’m angry that your first trip includes a killer statue. I’m not angry that you’re here, Coop.”

He sent me a grateful smile, one with lots of shiny teeth; it was his trademarked ‘ _very happy_ ’ grin. I realised, then, that it’d been months since I last saw it.

By the time we reached the Doctor’s side, we’d made it to the Maze’s fourth level; it was made up of tightly compacted tunnels, made even smaller by the statuary lining the sides.

“How did the Aplans die?” I asked, somewhat randomly.

“Petrifold Regression,” Brother Kaleb said, “it spread across the planet in a manner of days. Turned every man, woman and child into a statue. That’s what we’re looking at now; their remains.”

“The statues… they’re the Aplans?”

The Doctor stopped walking ahead, catching Brother Kaleb’s eye, “the Aplans walked into their Mortariums to die?”

“It was a mass suicide, of a sorts,” Brother Kaleb shrugged, “there wasn’t anything they could do. Even with two heads, a cure was out of the question.”

“They were a lovely species, the Aplans,” the Doctor reminisced, offering a hand to guide me up the last few steps, “very relaxed, sort of cheery. Comes from having two heads, I suppose; you’re never short of a best friend with an extra head. All through your life, just having someone there with you, going through the same things, feeling what you feel. The arguments were bad, naturally, but they got good at plastic surgery to rebuild all the chewed off ears and noses after a few centuries.”

At the top of the staircase was another, larger chamber, darker than I was expecting it to be. I flicked on my torch, only to jump as I found a statue mere feet away, much closer than the rest of the statuary.

“Doctor,” I began, “something’s off.”

“I… I’m getting that, too,” he span his flashlight across the statuary, slowly turning on the spot, “something’s been nibbling at the back of my mind ever since we climbed down. Where’s Bob and the others?”

“He’s guarding our six with Angelo and Christian,” Father Octavian reminded him.

The Doctor pointed his light down the way we came, highlighting the lack of clerics, “then where _are_ they?”

Frowning at the Doctor’s words, Father Octavian clutched at his radio, “Bob, Angelo, Christian, come in, please. Any of you, come in.”

Static was the only response from the radio. It came out in short crackles, each one another nail in the coffin. Father Octavian looked to Brother Kaleb, who tried on his own radio, “Angelo, you there?”

“They’re dead,” Cooper was the first to say, verbal filter gone entirely, “the Angel killed them!”

“Angels don’t kill,” I said, “they send you back in time.”

“Yeah, so you can _die_ in the past! It’s not in the Byzantium anymore,” Cooper turned to Father Octavian, surprising me with his directness, “you’ve walked us into a deathtrap.”

“This wasn’t my plan,” Father Octavian replied, apparently getting defensive because of a fifteen year old, “Kaleb was the one to suggest it.”

“The plan is still going ahead,” Brother Kaleb was quick to reassure, “the blast zone from the Byzantium will take out everything in a ten kilometre radius. The Angel can’t escape _that_.”

“Oh.”

The Doctor’s quiet, yet pained, noise drew our attention from the brewing argument. He was staring, stone-faced, at the nearest statue. He looked… lost, in a way that I’d never seen before.

“ _Oh_ ,” he said, again, filled with meaning that I just couldn’t understand.

“Doctor?” I prodded, approaching his side cautiously, as I would an injured animal, “what is it?”

He didn’t say anything; not a single sound left his mouth in the fifteen or so seconds he stared at me, eyes actually _watering_. If I had to put a title to what was currently carved into his face, it’d be that of a regretful mourner. He was genuinely horrified, by what I didn’t know.

“Doctor?” I asked again, taking his elbow, “you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words escaping him in a whisper, “I am _truly_ sorry. Cooper’s right – this is a deathtrap. Bishop, I had no idea. I made a mistake. We all have.”

Father Octavian was just as stunned as I was, “Doctor? Is it the Byzantium? Will the explosion-”

“No, no, the explosion will be fine. It’ll take out this entire mountain,” the Doctor hooked an arm around my waist and heaved me away from the statuary, in the centre of the clerics, “Brother Kaleb, the Aplans -”

“What _about_ them?” Brother Kaleb seemed impatient, shuffling on the spot, “the Aplans are dead.”

“Tell me about them, the defining characteristics,” the Doctor requested.

With a sigh, Brother Kaleb acquiesced, “died out four centuries ago from an unexplained outbreak of Petrifold Regression, most notable for their impeccable architecture and two heads-”

“There we go,” the Doctor murmured.

“Their heads?” Brother Kaleb repeated, eyes wrinkling at the corners, “what about them?”

“They’ve got two,” I said.

The statue closest to me was a broken remnant of a woman; her limbs were posed like she was reaching out, trying to grab something that was eternally out of reach. The rags of clothing she wore were melded to her skin and difficult to discern amongst the cracked fragments of skin. Her face, which must’ve been hauntingly beautiful once upon a time, was too decayed to make out any real features. According to Brother Kaleb, this woman was once an Aplan.

And, for the first time, I realised what was wrong

“The statuary only have one,” I finished.

_Penny in the air…_

“Oh,” Brother Kaleb staggered away, checking the statuary nearest, “oh, why didn’t I notice that? Why didn’t _anyone_ notice that? We’ve been here for two hundred years!”

“Low level perception filter,” the Doctor tried to rationalise, “or maybe we’re all thick. Everyone, at the back of the room – don’t ask stupid questions, don’t ask for a toilet break, and only blink when I tell you to.”

The clerics, which at some point had shrunk down to three women and four men, gathered behind the Doctor. For some reason, their readied their guns, as if they’d be of any use against stone.

“Switch all of your torches off,” the Doctor instructed.

“Are you sure?” Brother Kaleb did turn his light off, reluctant though he may be, “if they _are_ -”

“We need to know for certain,” the Doctor said. Once every torch had gone dark, he held out his own as a beacon of safety, “I’m going to turn this one off, too, only for a second.”

“Doctor,” I began, without knowing how the sentence would end. I knew, in the back of my head, that if we were surrounded by Weeping Angels, our chances of survival just went into negative numbers. As a result, in the front of my head, I reasoned that if I wanted to tell the Doctor something, now would be the time to do it.

And yet, the only thing that escaped my mouth was, “I hope you’re wrong.”

“So do I,” he replied with a grin.

The final light went out, only for a heartbeat, but it was enough.

Every statue, every _single_ one, had moved; crawling towards us on the floor, reaching out with half-crumbled fingers. The eyes were fully opened, two stone spheres that sent chills right through my spine. It was like I was watching as my future was ripped away from me in milliseconds.

“They’re Weeping Angels,” came the Doctor’s unnecessary confirmation, “every statue is a Weeping Angel.”

“Bob, Angelo, Christian,” Father Octavian said their names with dawning horror, “they were dead the instant they left us.”

“Father,” began Brother Kaleb, the only one without his gun out, “what do we do now?”

“We carry on ahead,” Father Octavian answered, with no noticeable hesitation, “if a single Angel is a danger, I dare not think of what an army could do.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaleb began to murmur; he strode off by himself, up the staircase behind us. It was bringing us closer to the Byzantium with every step, which was now a relief instead of a death sentence, “the Aplans had Petrifold Regression. They _must_ have – how else did they disappear over the course of one solar night?”

“Can Angels take over other statues?”

Kaleb waved off my question, “yes, that’s been seen before. They took over the Imperial Gallery of Phyxis-9, once. But that’s not what’s happened here. They keep the physical characteristics of the statue they take over – those Angels don’t have a second head. They’re _not_ Aplan.”

“Well, maybe, er,” I tried to think of something, “the Angels can send you back in time, right? How old is this place? A thousand years?”

“Roughly, yes,” Kaleb gestured towards the wall carvings, “they refer to Kings Antonius and Declonius. _Far_ older than the other Mazes. It’s always been a hotly discussed topic – the Mazes were first built a whole continent away before spreading here, yet this place was three centuries older.”

“What about the Petrifold Regression?” the Doctor asked, at our side like he’d been there the entire time, “where did _that_ come from?”

“No one knows. It’s been a complete mystery ever since we first started colonising the planet. It’s not untrue – I’ve seen the statuary it left behind. Two heads, like it should be. But… Doctor, is it possible that the Angels brought the disease with them? As a way of creating more of themselves?”

“It...” Kaleb’s question brought the Doctor to a standstill, “well, yes. Petrifold Regression is a disease like no other – there won’t even be a cure for it until a few billion years have passed. No one’s ever been certain where it originated from… and… Brother Kaleb, correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t there an outbreak of Petrifold Regression on Phyxis-9?”

“Doctor,” Father Octavian grabbed him by the elbow and swung him around so that they were face to face, “are you telling me those Angels could infect the colony?”

“They _could_. They could also leech the Byzantium of all power and turn the colony into dust. They’re not exactly lacking in numbers, are they?”

“If that’s true then I need to contact-”

The Doctor chuckled scathingly, “as if the Angels would let the signal go through!”

“It is _not_ your place to-”

“SHUT UP!” roared Cooper.

The brewing argument halted, drawing our attention _away_ from the Aplan mystery and towards the fact that our torches were beginning to flicker on and off.

“The Aplans have been dead for centuries,” Cooper began, “we’re still alive. Those human colonists are still alive. I know where our priorities should _be_. This entire thing is redundant! I know what happened!”

“You do?” I asked, out of weariness more than anything else, “can you explain it? My head’s turning to goo with those three going in circles.”

Cooper began to lead our little group as he spoke, more commanding than Father Octavian had been for the entire trip, “four hundred years ago, every Aplan on this planet got turned to stone. _Probably_ not long after the Aplans discovered this place – they must’ve dug in or something, waking up the Angels. They must’ve been down here for centuries already, decaying and dying. Not enough energy to fight the Aplans head-to-heads. So, instead, they send the Aplans who found them back in time by around six centuries… and to make sure no one else would find them, they released the disease to kill the planet. The displaced Aplans build this place to make sure that there isn’t a massive bloody paradox or something...”

I was actually really, amazingly, incredibly impressed by his skills of deduction. “God, Coop, how’d you figure that out?”

He pulled a dusty old book from his blazer, “I found this diary one of the workers kept and it explained the whole thing. Made the stone bit up myself, but it makes sense, yeah?”

The Doctor and Kaleb swooped forwards at the same time – the Doctor managed to yank the book first, flicking through the pages so quickly they were a blur, “and you didn’t think to tell us _then_?”

As the Doctor and Kaleb inspected the book, Cooper rolled his eyes, “you’re _welcome_.”

“It’s all in here,” the Doctor said, “they found the Angels and retreated – half of the nearest city was gone within the hour. The original group was sent back a few centuries and the leader decided that they’d build the Mortarium so there wasn’t a paradox. Apparently, the Angels were in the mountain – they were too weak to attack properly.”

“The Byzantium must’ve woke them up,” Kaleb added on, “the Aplans weren’t as advanced. No space exploration tech.”

“Sir!” called one of the clerics, still watching our back as this all went down, “Angels approaching! They’re looking more like the photos now!”

“We need to move,” Father Octavian quietly said, “Mr. Wilson is correct – our concerns must be towards those still breathing.”

“If we survive this, I’m gonna kill you,” I told Cooper, grabbing his hand, “you don’t keep stuff like this to yourself – Cooper, that stuff was important!”

“I just told you!” Cooper protested as I pulled him along, “I didn’t think it was that important until now!”

“You didn’t think the book about how the Angels took this planet was important before _now_?!”

When we reached the top of the staircase, we spilled out into a massive cavern; high above us, splitting through the surface, was the metal hull of the Byzantium. Floating between us and the ship was the grav globe, flickering along with the torches.

“It must be about thirty feet up,” Father Octavian said, “we brought climbing gear… but it’ll take too much time to set up.”

“There’s got to be a way,” I said.

“There’s always a way,” the Doctor reassured me.

“The statues- the _statuary_ ,” one of the clerics called, “they’re advancing along all corridors! And, sir, my torch keeps flickering.”

“They all do,” replied Father Octavian, “retreat to the inner circle and form a protective line.”

“How do we get out?” I asked the Doctor, “you must have a plan.”

The Doctor sent me an incredulous look, “oh, _must_ I?”

“If you can figure out a way to escape the Star Whale’s mouth, then this should be child’s play,” the unconvinced expression on the Doctor’s face made me pause, “this… this _is_ gonna be child’s play, isn’t it?”

“Two more incoming!”

“Clerics, we’re down to four men,” Father Octavian seemed unshaken, but his men were less so; we’d entered the Maze with twelve or so clerics. To see so many of them fall – without even _realising_ they were dying...

“The torches are dying because the Angels are draining the power,” the Doctor said.

“We can’t see them coming in the dark,” Kaleb said, “which means we’ll be having tea with the Aplans.”

Cooper laughed, “yeah, I’d rather not. Can’t we just… climb up?”

“With _what_?” I asked.

“Octivvy said they brought climbing gear,” Cooper said.

“ _Father Octavian_ also said that it’d take too long to set up,” Octivvy snapped.

“You’ve got something,” I told the Doctor, “you have, I can see it in your face. Doctor?”

“Trust me?” came his question, facing the Byzantium but looking at me.

A sigh fell from my lips, “when don’t I?”

“Cooper, Kaleb, trust me?”

The two shared a glance, shrugged, then said, “yes.”

Next, the Doctor turned to Father Octavian, “trust me?”

“Sir! Three more incoming!”

Looking back at his men, mere shadows of what they once were, Father Octavian nodded, solemn, “we have faith, Doctor.”

“Then give me your gun,” the Doctor requested. Father Octavian, without any hesitation whatsoever, passed over the handgun he kept strapped to his thigh. “Now, I’m about to do something stupid, dangerous and smart; when I do, jump!”

“Jump?” Cooper repeated, sounding dubious, “you want us to _out-jump_ the Angels? I should’ve brought my Space Hopper.”

“That would’ve actually been quite useful,” the Doctor said, “as well as immensely fun.”

“Doctor,” Father Octavian began, “what’s the signal to jump?”

The Doctor waved the gun in response and everyone who were in its path ducked immediately, “this is!”

“More incoming!” the clerics yelled, “we’re surrounded, sir!”

“Marco, I can see that,” Father Octavian snapped.

“Where are we jumping to?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” he told me, with a half-mad grin, “just jump. Far as you can! No do-overs, so make it count, yeah?”

I nodded, trying to calm my racing heart; every five seconds or so, the grav globe would go out and the Angels would be a few inches closer. We were now a tightly packed circle, blinking torches spread out – the Angels, mostly still deformed but a few more solidly built, trapped us on every side.

“Jump to safety?” I clarified.

“In a manner of speaking,” the Doctor said, moments before he fired the gun. In a heartbeat, the cavern went pitch black and I could hear whooshing air as the Angels made their move.

And, with a huge breath, my feet left the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments!


End file.
